Sunday, January 29, 2006

Horse face

Just spent a crazy day packing up the rest of my clothes. I had no idea to what extent I had become a clotheshorse. I would say clothes make up 78.592% of my processions. I have another seven bags of clothes and shoes to donate to my local city mission. My college roommate drove two and a half hours each way to help me sort, organize and prioritize. Yeah for the beautiful Patti! I needed it because quite frankly when it comes to other peoples’ things, she’s very good at management. And, if needed, she will offer to make a “decision” about something while I’m outta the room – taking away my guilt and indecision…as well as the wrinkled sweater I found on a park bench in college, that is too small and has holes but I just can’t bear to part with; oh! And that mesh cowboy hat, I don’t wear it now nor never have but its so cute and someday I might WANT IT, and these platform sandals.... Her rule of thumb - if you have to think about it, it goes.

Things I found today:
  • A “cereal box” for an advanced branding design class, that I created with a (no lie) briefcase handle on the top; Reggio's Italian Biscotti Breakfast by Danni
  • An old purse full of dust, lighters, pens, Altoids and contraceptive jelly
  • 400 shoes, 300 mates
  • a colony of dust bunnies that should be studied
  • Full-length, black and white leopard print skirt
  • Bank card I apparently never missed, subsequently given to Neil to test out the new shredder!
  • A pair of tennis shoes exactly like the ones I wore today to clean out my closet
Tomorrow will be lots of moving clothes outta the house and shipping some. I am still battling the in’s and out’s of my farkin' tax return and can’t seem to come to any kind of understanding. My state return is coming up greater than my federal return! If HSA's are as the Bushmonger says they are, why is it killing my return?!? And why do I have to file HSA in INCOME?!? Its supposed to be a tax-exempt savings account. I had to download information from the IRS Web site. According to Neil, this IRS thingie controls taxes and such, and provides to you outrageously long and complicated instructions, but not ON the form you need to complete, that's a separate document. This post is lame but my brain is mush. I’ve started to drool and rock myself in my chair.

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Let me tell you how it will be, There's one for you, nineteen for me

I am in the middle of doing my taxes tonight...and by doing, I mean using the ridiculously user-friendly online TurboTax engine with nerve-wracking angst. This year is only slightly more complicated because of unemployment benefits as well as two jobs. So far, TT is telling me that after making less money last year than I have since college, my return should roughly afford me a package of Ho Ho’s. My sole motivation for filing a tax return lay in the prospect of a healthy return. What good is having an evil yahoo clown in office if it doesn't at least offer some monetary gain? Gravely disappointing. I am finally motivated to do it and the government Web site for student loan information (needed to file year-end interest payment information for deductions) is down. *SHOCK* I cannot believe a government site, especially one for students, would be down. Poor roomie Neil, I am bugging him like a child. “Neil, is this Twelve-A box D or a D box full of elves?”

Tax information is like a foreign language to me and there’s something about the importance of a tax-return that makes me second-guess and panic over each answer. I suddenly doubt my very existence and all ration flies out the window. “Am I legally blind? Am I blind? Hmmm, well, you’d think so if you peaked through my glasses. Wait, no, pretty sure I’m not legally blind…Neil…can I ask you something? I mean, what if I don’t fill this out and THEN I go blind?”

I think the only way that would make my tax experience better would be if they made the W2 forms just a little smaller, two font points should do, so I have to get out a magnifying glass to read it like a nana. Knowing me, I’d take it outside to get some sunshine and burn them to ashes. Excellent. [strums fingers]

Friday, January 27, 2006

open wide

Just got back from the "women's" doctor. Ever since I had a rather uncomfortable, rather intimate biopsy procedure last year, I begin to hyperventilate the day before an appointment and am in a full-on dead sweat by the time the doctor comes into the room. Now I know why my dog shook so much when returning to the vet.

Fingers crossed for a good outcome!

Thursday, January 26, 2006

the first move

Yesterday I spent more than a small amount of time packing...well, to be specific, I spent a lot of time going through my main closet, the hall closet and two chests of drawers...and four linen closet spaces to sort out my clothes. Each space began with a cursory editing, followed by a more forceful and yet apathetic review. I found it difficult to give up some of my most beloved articles - a pair of old saddle boots, dress shirts from my first out of college job and even my studded camo dance-club pants. In the end, twelve bags full of clothes were loaded into my car and taken to the Lincoln People's City Mission drop-off site. I have to admit that while thinking of others helped me unearth my collected piles of clothes, I felt a shameful regret as I left my last bag in the warehouse entry. I was leaving my things, MY THINGS, pieces of me to fend for themselves in a loud and scary place. I felt very much like you do as a child, when someone else takes your toy - it’s YOUR thing and it feels unjust that it’s not with you.

Deep down I was really hoping that someone there would applaud me - they would reassure me that the things I was leaving behind were DESPERATELY needed and would go to good use. I imagined even a name coming into play, "Oh, Sara and Sondra need these jeans so badly so they can go to the school dance. Its such a good thing that you gave up those low-rise Levi’s with the embellished pockets.” No such luck. Only two of the three guys there loading a moving truck spoke English, and only one didn’t seem like a serial killer. I told them to take care and quickly hopped back into my car, and backed out of the dark alley.

My clothes are so difficult to sort because my weight has run up and down – and who knows where it will be tomorrow? How do I know what kind of clothes I’ll need in Denver? Will the high-altitude shrink me or will I balloon like a beach ball? These questions plagued me – I felt good about ridding myself of extra material things I don’t need but I also felt a kind of donator’s remorse. So I went home and ate a brownie.