Recovered from the Wayback Machine. It’s funny, but everything worked out. Yes, I lost most of my stuff in storage when I finally had to just sell the contents. And that still causes me to wince a bit. Not as much as losing my beloved Zoe, years later. The California tax person I talked to said, just don’t worry about it. It’s only a problem if I move back to California. As for the IRS? I actually went on the offense with the IRS rep and _she_ backed off. So there you go.
As you can tell from postings today, I am in a seriously down mood. This is one of those days when I should just step away from the keyboard and walk away slowly, but it’s also matched with this perverse idea of wanting to just talk about it.
I’m lost in this never-ending spiral of worry that’s confusing me and leaving me with little energy. I am on the verge of losing everything. Everything I own. And the worry was compounded yesterday when I got letters from both the IRS and the California State revenue boards (synchronous bad news — there was a little beauty to the serendipity of it). Letters state, bluntly, that I’m in a world of trouble because of taxes paid, unpaid, and filings not made on time when I closed down my corporation in California. I misunderstood what I needed to do, but that doesn’t quite hack it for the IRS. My problem, but I don’t know what to do about it, and it’s scary because I don’t have the money to pay the state, and I’m not sure what kind of fines I’m facing with the IRS but they’re bad.
No, I am not passing the hat. I’m just talking. That’s all. Talking.
And normally I would walk to help with the stress, but every time I try it hurts badly in my lower back and all I can do is drag one foot along behind me with every step. And I refuse to start drinking for the pain at 10 in the morning.
Again, I’m NOT passing the hat, and wouldn’t take financial help if you offered (Tax help I’d take. And a spare job if you have it. Back rub would be good.) But these are things in my life now that are heavily influencing my interactions with you all.
I’m also not asking for ‘pity’ because pity should be reserved for those who have no control over their lives, and screwed up as it is, my life is still mine. That’s really something very important when you consider the alternatives facing all of us these days. And I still have a brain, as well as a keyboard, and Internet connection with which to do serious harm with said brain. I can still see and its a lovely sunny day outside, and the trees are full of birds. I still have my soft furry friend, Zoe, who has sensed my stress the last few days and hasn’t left my side for a moment. (And I’m pretty sure the IRS won’t want Zoe.) And I’m listening, because I can, to a new Creed CD, a late Christmas present from my brother. Tonight I start reading, because I can, Austerliz by W.G. Sebald, an on-time Christmas present from a friend.
And I still have my looks. Hee.
Writing about these things, and sharing them, makes them seem just a tad less overwhelming, which is why sometimes we write about the bad times in our lives. Oddly enough, just writing this post has helped me because what started out in despair, ended with an odd sort of peace. It’s a bit sucky right now, but it could be worse.
Best of all, I actually found that in all that moroseness that my sense of humor is still here. I just need to find someone new to pick on. That will make me feel better.
(And BTW — thanks for listening.)
