Down With The Man
I have a feeling I'm going to get seriously screwed when I file my taxes this year.
That's what happens when you go from owning a home and having two mortgages at 10 and 12%, respectively, and filing as "head of household" with one dependent on whom you spend a shitload every year for childcare, to having no excessively-high interest mortgages. And I'm sure next year, filing as "married, 2 deductions," I'll get screwed even worse.
I started doing Ben's taxes the other day, and he will end up owing a pittance--but still, I hate paying the feds AGAIN when I've been chucking money their way all fucking year. I much prefer to have a nice fat number with a comma in it sitting in that final box that says "this is the amount you overpaid" so I can send it to them and say "pay up, fuckers!" and then laugh maniacally.
Not that they can hear me laugh, but still.
Working for a living is vastly overrated.
I haven't heard from my lawyer all week and I'm starting to get pissed. My trial is in two weeks from tomorrow. I have no idea what our strategy will be (aside from the obvious--he's a psycho, I'm not) or what irons he has on the fire.
And I'm developing one of those impossible zits on the rim of my right nostril--the ones you can't even try to squeeze because you can't see where they start or end and they hurt too damn much anyway, so you just walk around with a big red nose like the town drunk. Nice.
I think I'm well on my way to becoming persona non grata among my in-laws. Ben's mom still has her panties in a serious wad over not being invited to our "wedding." I could understand her position had my whole fam damily been present--but they weren't invited, either. NO ONE was. She laid this whole guilt trip on Ben last night about how marriage isn't about just 2 people, it's about the whole family. Well, I don't know about him, but I believe the exact opposite. I didn't marry his whole family, and I know he damn sure wasn't interested in marrying mine. I'm over that whole "princess for a day" bullshit that 20 year old brides are into. I had a big wedding once, and by the time it was over, I wanted to strangle each and every member of both families with my expensive embroidered nylons. I didn't feel any need to prove to every relative of ours that I want to be with him forever--I truly believe the only person who needs to know that is him. The ring can tell everyone else. Besides--it's over, it's done with, so she really needs to just get over it and move on, or there's going to be some bad blood brewing there.
I felt really bad for him about the whole thing. He really just wants everyone to be happy for us because we're happy, not all in a lather because we didn't include everyone. My own mother, who I can only handle in small doses, had a better reaction--she was overjoyed for both of us and probably glad she wasn't invited so she didn't have to shuffle her social calendar.
But my parents pretty much turned me loose on the world once I turned 17 and graduated from high school, and I'm not sure Ben's mother has ever really realized he's not still sleeping in their basement and eating their groceries.
Denial--it ain't just a river in Egypt.
And I can say these things because I have a son, and I'm sure whoever he ends up with down the road will think I'm the most insufferable bitch they ever met.
It's a fact of life.
I have requested Ben give Bob his bath tonight so I can layer up and go "running." I really don't want to, but dammit, my pants don't fit. Nor does my shirt. So my spare tire keeps hanging out between the two and I feel like I have to hunch over just to prevent people from seeing it.
I need another credit card so I can buy clothes that fit.
Then I won't be able to afford food, so I'll lose weight and be able to fit into my skinny clothes. Diet by debt. I love it.
That's what happens when you go from owning a home and having two mortgages at 10 and 12%, respectively, and filing as "head of household" with one dependent on whom you spend a shitload every year for childcare, to having no excessively-high interest mortgages. And I'm sure next year, filing as "married, 2 deductions," I'll get screwed even worse.
I started doing Ben's taxes the other day, and he will end up owing a pittance--but still, I hate paying the feds AGAIN when I've been chucking money their way all fucking year. I much prefer to have a nice fat number with a comma in it sitting in that final box that says "this is the amount you overpaid" so I can send it to them and say "pay up, fuckers!" and then laugh maniacally.
Not that they can hear me laugh, but still.
Working for a living is vastly overrated.
I haven't heard from my lawyer all week and I'm starting to get pissed. My trial is in two weeks from tomorrow. I have no idea what our strategy will be (aside from the obvious--he's a psycho, I'm not) or what irons he has on the fire.
And I'm developing one of those impossible zits on the rim of my right nostril--the ones you can't even try to squeeze because you can't see where they start or end and they hurt too damn much anyway, so you just walk around with a big red nose like the town drunk. Nice.
I think I'm well on my way to becoming persona non grata among my in-laws. Ben's mom still has her panties in a serious wad over not being invited to our "wedding." I could understand her position had my whole fam damily been present--but they weren't invited, either. NO ONE was. She laid this whole guilt trip on Ben last night about how marriage isn't about just 2 people, it's about the whole family. Well, I don't know about him, but I believe the exact opposite. I didn't marry his whole family, and I know he damn sure wasn't interested in marrying mine. I'm over that whole "princess for a day" bullshit that 20 year old brides are into. I had a big wedding once, and by the time it was over, I wanted to strangle each and every member of both families with my expensive embroidered nylons. I didn't feel any need to prove to every relative of ours that I want to be with him forever--I truly believe the only person who needs to know that is him. The ring can tell everyone else. Besides--it's over, it's done with, so she really needs to just get over it and move on, or there's going to be some bad blood brewing there.
I felt really bad for him about the whole thing. He really just wants everyone to be happy for us because we're happy, not all in a lather because we didn't include everyone. My own mother, who I can only handle in small doses, had a better reaction--she was overjoyed for both of us and probably glad she wasn't invited so she didn't have to shuffle her social calendar.
But my parents pretty much turned me loose on the world once I turned 17 and graduated from high school, and I'm not sure Ben's mother has ever really realized he's not still sleeping in their basement and eating their groceries.
Denial--it ain't just a river in Egypt.
And I can say these things because I have a son, and I'm sure whoever he ends up with down the road will think I'm the most insufferable bitch they ever met.
It's a fact of life.
I have requested Ben give Bob his bath tonight so I can layer up and go "running." I really don't want to, but dammit, my pants don't fit. Nor does my shirt. So my spare tire keeps hanging out between the two and I feel like I have to hunch over just to prevent people from seeing it.
I need another credit card so I can buy clothes that fit.
Then I won't be able to afford food, so I'll lose weight and be able to fit into my skinny clothes. Diet by debt. I love it.
posted by Mitzi Green at 3:32 PM
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