I am supposed to be doing my taxes so I can send them to the accountant, today. I meant to have them done long before now, but we’re leaving for our trip in less than 72 hours… Now I have to get a shopping list compiled… And hem a sweet pair of lounge pants… And pack my clothes and all of the “stuff” we’ll need on the RV. We’ve joked about how much work it is to go play. Today it doesn’t seem very funny.
And… the taxes.
There are two folders sitting on my desk along with an envelope full of receipts which should match the accompanying check register for 2016. Simple, right? Should be, but first I need to make the bed. And, of all mornings, this morning I can’t make myself eat a container of yogurt and piece of fruit with my coffee. No, today I want a bowl of oatmeal. I’m stalling. Undeniably. I don’t know why because this year should be the easiest of my whole life. I’m retired!
It’s an emotional response to tax-time, not a logical one. All those years of being a working single-mom, and every year feeling that “I didn’t make enough money to owe all of those taxes!”
Years ago I had a reading with Joe Nichols, a dear friend who also happens to be a super-star psychic. He pointed out that death & taxes are two of life’s inevitabilities. He said if I embraced them and shifted my attitude to “rendering unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s,” and did it with gratitude, it would change my life.
Contemplating this over my bowl of oatmeal, I ask myself if that talk so many years ago changed my life? Overall, I would say it did. I began to see myself as part of a greater whole, and it taught me to prioritize and save for what must be done.
Bowl washed, I head to my desk to knock them out. In record time my taxes are done and electronically filed. Now I’m going to tackle the grocery list, and then hem my lounge pants.