Not as Dumb as I Thought

Tax time is always a bit chaotic. There's usually a six-inch thick file of paperwork all organized and tallied at the end of the process, but the getting there is quite a journey. I'm not the most organized individual, and have had to develop some habits to get me through the whole thing. Sometimes they've even worked. Often, however, there's the process of collecting paperwork from assorted piles scattered through the house, sorting, tossing, filing, pulling from the files, identifying missing pieces, hunting, resorting....

You get the picture. And yesterday was the last push to finish filling out all the forms. Federal done - check. State done - check. Property tax refund - wait! Where's the tax statement? I knew I'd seen the figures, a bit less due than last year, house valuation down a bit - OK, quite a bit. So's everybody's. Irrelevant, get back to business.

But where did I file that pesky bugger? I went through all the stack of income tax paperwork, a piece at a time for anything big enough to be the paper in question. No go. That stack had been on the table for ages, removed temporarily to make room for Easter dinner, and then placed back to remind me of a task undone. It had been right next to the stack of paperwork for my dad - bills, bank statements, Medicare explanations..... Ah Ha! Check that out. Let's see, it also got removed from the table for Easter dinner, and went.... where? Rummage, rummage, find, and... nada. Oh wait, here's another stack, and... zip. Zilch.

I know that added stress in your life can create strange reactions, things like forgetting where you put something, over and above the usual. I was starting to think that maybe taking care of my dad had begun to creep up on me without my having noticed how incompetent I was getting at everything. I never misplace stuff like tax statements. In fact, they always go... AhHa! Right in the tray of bills to be paid, because of course, that's what it is, a bill to be paid! Pull out the tray, rummage, rummage, toss, toss - what are they doing still here? - rummage, and... no more paperwork. It's not here either.

Dang! How can I have lost my property tax statement? Well, the only thing left to do is head to the courthouse tomorrow on my way to the dentist, plead my mea culpas, and ask for a copy. Pay even, if need be.

And bright and early this morning, that's exactly what I did. Walked into the Treasurer's office, thinking if she didn't have copies there, she could point me in the right direction. She started to pull my file up on her computer, but while she was doing that, she informed me that the statements had actually just gone to the printer, and would be mailed out later this week. She could print off a copy for me if I couldn't wait that long...

Absolutely delighted that I hadn't - quite -- lost my mind, I thanked her for her help, declining the offered copy, happy to wait until the real property tax statement arrived, and knowing exactly where it would be filed until time for it to be paid, or a copy sent off to the state to claim my refund.

WHEW!