(Open letter to the IRS that I will never actually send)
I really want to thank you for the FIRST letter you sent me - Notice 1377: Economic Stimulus Payment Notice. Do you remember that one? You sent it to me in March. It was the one that started out, "We are pleased to inform you that the US Congress passed and President George Bush signed into law the Economic Stimulus Act of 2008...yadda, yadda, yadda...you may be entitled to a payment up to $600, plus additional amounts for each qualifying child."
I meant to write you and the Congress and of course Georgie Bush2 a
thank you note as well as inquire if my 30 plus year old child would qualify, since technically she was still in school -- if you count her 10 year odyssey to get a PhD--as a "qualifying child". I was afraid, however, since she was a - living in another state b- married c - working d- has a much better credit rating than me that the answer would be
no.
But - I DID finally write you albeit the date was April 15th. To make it look official and to show you how much I feared/respected the IRS, I used a Form: 1040 EZ. It all looked so simple.
NOW, you've written me back on Form ...hmmmm... I'm not sure what number it is - but I do notice it appears you know my name and SSN...so let's just agree we are both on intimate terms.
You tell me I've once more screwed up the "EZ" part of the 1040 and managed to claim myself as a "DEPENDENT" and therefore -- if I am following the gist of your letter correctly -- that I am getting less money back than earlier promised. Regarding that term: I'm dependent - as I age - on so much - but in terms of Economics, Taxes & the IRS, I am my own, independent person.
Now, I feel a bit like I'm on JUDGE JUDY's TV show. Here is the true
but lame rationale behind my error. That day was TAX DAY - and I had to get the damned thing filed - I had started the form on the 12 - but now it was the 17th - and that VERY SAME day was the day I had all my teeth pulled out by a very sadistic person aka Oral Surgeon. I used as many drugs as available that day including nitrous oxide - a bizarre thing that freezes one's nose as it is breathed in...and goes by the slippery name of Laughing Gas.
As it turns out, having all of one's teeth pulled out, being nitrous oxieded out of one's mind and then filling out my tax forms after the two prescribed Vicodin kicked in was probably not a wise move. Of course I say this in
retrospect. At the time it seemed just one more thing I had to do that day.
So, let's all get together over a bit of tea, and write me again at your first opportunity. Feel free to use any IRS Form Number you wish. I think we're going to be corresponding for a while.
Sincerely,
West Coast Boomer
