From the vault: Procrastination (April 18, 2007)

Yes, that is me, the procrastinator. I think that will be my new nickname. OK, so, I am a big dork. I actually waited until tonight to finish my taxes. I started them last night, but between my splitting headache and my son wanting his mommy's attention, it was just not going to happen. So, I popped two Excedrin and ate a huge bowl of carbs and gave up for the night thinking I would do it in the morning. That did not happen, either.
So my friend, Memory (God love her), calls me this morning (to inform me that she will be induced on Thursday. YAY! Baby!!) and she tries to help me figure out if filing an extension would be a good out. The publication on the IRS website was not too helpful, so after a few moments, and after she assures me I will not be arrested for missing the deadline, I bid her farewell.
Then I call H & R Block, because at this point I have sort of a nervous stomach because I know it is bad that I have waited too long and now I am scrambling. The chickie at H & R Block is very pleasant and says right off the bat that I should be able to get in, no problem. Could I hold while she pulls up the appointment schedule? Absolutely I can hold. She comes back and informs me that she has a 1 o'clock and it is all mine. One o'clock?!? Do you have anything in like, 5 minutes? (I did not say this, just thinking it) I POLITELY ask her if there are any later appointments available as I have to work. She says they close at 5 but maybe the Peru office would be open later since I work near there it may work out. I thank her for her time and hang up.
So, butterflies and all, I face the reality that I am not going to get out of this easily. I temporarily give up my quest for a charitable accountant and give in to the fact that I am going to have to do these frickin' taxes myself. I venture off to the Little Store and get my coffee, smoke two cigarettes, and head off to work. As the day went on, the butterflies subsided and I was actually able to joke about it. I figured, why not? I was the one who got myself into this mess, I would have to be the one to get myself out. It is good to laugh at yourself, and when you are me, you get plenty of opportunities to laugh at yourself. It keeps me grounded. Beats crying, anyway.
After work, I head home, psyching myself up he whole way home. Lets face it, this sucks. I have to get myself in the right frame of mind because there is simply NO more time to put it off. I get home, hug Cosmo, greet Bill, gather my pile-o-documents and head upstairs. I inform everyone that I am not to be bothered and go to my room, turn on some music, and get crackin'. After about an hour and a half, I am done, minimal damage is done, and my plan is in motion. I have no ink in my printer and I plan on going to the library to print out the nice, neat copies I typed out (courtesy of the irs website (which was helpful this time)). So I attach them to an email and send them to myself (shut up. I am a dork, this is not new news). It is 8:51. I have 9 minutes to drive 8 blocks to the library, access the computers, print my pages, pay the librarian, and go.
Ok, this did not happen according to plan, either. I get to the library and it is closed. SHIT!!!!!!! So I call my friend, Paisley (God love her, too!) and ask her if I can come and use her printer. She agrees so I head over to her place. I stop at the liquor store beforehand and pick up a sixer of some raspberry tasties; I figure I certainly deserve it. Not to mention the fact that I am chock full of adrenaline and anxiety from this whole mess that I brought upon myself. I arrive safely at Paisley's and we share a celebratory beverage. I print my return out and head to the North side of town and drop my two envelopes into the mailbox at 10:05. Whew. Thank goodness.
Note to self- waiting 'til the last minute is bad, m'kay?
xxoo