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We managed to arrive with eight minutes to spare when we checked in with the receptionist. She looked at the computer screen and informed us that our appointment was for the following day. She further explained that our tax preparer always has Wednesdays off (like I was supposed to automatically know that little bit of information).
I was muttering under my breath as we walked through the parking lot. I knew that THEY had made an error when they told me the date; not only had I parroted the information to the person I spoke with on the phone, but had her repeat it back to me twice before I wrote it down! (Never mind the comedy of errors that had already occurred, none of which could possibly have been their fault.)
It was now way too early for lunch, so we trudged back home. When we entered the house I noticed our checkbook was still sitting on the kitchen countertop; Mike had forgotten to pick it up and take with us to H & R Block (yes, that definitely falls under his job description).
Even though my taste buds had been primed for the flavors of fast food, I fixed a healthy meal of stir-fry chicken and vegetables at home. Later I drove Mike to the hobby store … where we learned the expected order hadn’t arrived. There wasn’t anything left to do but turn around and surrender the day as a major loss. It seems to me that I remember mentioning something about loving it when a plan comes together, but this certainly wasn’t an example of one of those days.
Later that evening, operating under the assumption that the day couldn’t possibly offer any more twists, I happened to look at the calendar again and – behold! I had indeed correctly written the time and date on the calendar after all. Apparently the problem was I didn’t fully grasp that this crazy day was only Wednesday.
The next morning we stood at the door facing each other with renewed determination. Mike said, "Well, I guess yesterday was just a dry run. What day is today?"
"Thursday, March 11," I replied, "And our appointment is at 10:00 am."
"You got the papers?"
"Check! You got the checkbook and cash in your wallet for lunch?" I asked.
"Check! What route are we taking?"
"Oakdale Road, turn right at Floyd Avenue, another right onto McHenry," I recited. We sounded like a pilot and co-pilot going through a pre-flight list before getting permission from the control tower to take off.
"Good. I think between the two of us we’ll get there."
This time everything went smoothly. We even shared the previous day’s misadventure with our tax preparer amid plenty of laughs at our own expense. Not only am I sure we made Susan’s day, but I noticed the couple in the next cubicle was suppressing quite a few giggles that I’m reasonably certain had nothing to do with any money they owed to the IRS.
Once we got to the job at hand, Susan found some numbers provided by one of our tax documents seemed a little out of whack. We ended up having to make a follow-up appointment so we could return with last year’s original documents and search for a possible letter of explanation about the way some funds had been redistributed. The good news is we have everything we need, this is all in our favor, and we will still be filing a month before the deadline. The rest of the good news is that I think we’ve got this routine down perfect now. Until next year.
P.S. I personally recommend Chili Cheese Dogs as good comfort food in case you, too, are experiencing a taxing situation.
©2010 Roberta McReynolds for SeniorWomen.com
