Monday, February 07, 2005

fate's mighty bitchslap

When the alarm went off this morning, I yawned and immediately cringed as a thousand needles of pain shot through my throat. I got up and hawked two liters of bright yellow phlegm into the toilet, and then, despite feeling like reconstituted dog shit, I began getting ready for work.

Once I was dressed and my hair was brushed and my lipstick was on and my pulse points had been spritzed, I realized I still had ten minutes to burn, so I thought, "Oh, yes, I should get my tax stuff together so I can drop by after work and get those done." I began rummaging through the pile of crap on my floor, looking for my W-2 and my statements for my savings account and my mutual fund.

Cue the soundtrack to House of Sand and Fog as I also find an envelope ominously marked "State of California Franchise Tax Board" that I had forgotten about.

I opened it.

"Our records indicate you have not filed a California income tax return for one or more years since 1999."

Um, what?

Frantically, I flipped through my file folders and found my tax returns for 2001, 2002, and 2003. Sho'nuff, I had filed every single year I've lived in California.

What the fuck?

Now bordering on tears, I folded the letter and put it in my purse, vowing to call on my lunch break and find out what the hell was going on.

So I put on my work badge and sunglasses, walked out to my car, and oh joy, to my UTTER and EXTREME delight, I had a COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKING FLAT TIRE.

Let's recap, shall we? In the course of one hour, I:

*Woke up with a throat full of broken glass and thistles;
*Found a letter saying I had not paid state income tax;
*Discovered a flat tire on my car.

So much for bordering on I was in full sobbing mode as I went back inside and flung myself on my bed for a good long cry. Then I called in sick, left a message for Dr. Feelgood to see if I could get in for an appointment, and curled up in bed.

On the plus side, my doctor's office called, and I have an appointment at 10:20. K is off today, and she has graciously agreed to drive me over there. When I get back, I'll call Triple A to put on my spare, and then I'll go get my tire changed. Then I'll come home and call the tax board. THEN I'm going to get into bed and pull the comforter over my head.

Christ, this sucks!

Must go to happy place...happy place...'s so beautiful here. I'm on the beach, and G is feeding me warm creme brulee while Jude Law rubs my feet. Diego is bringing me a mai tai. There are pointy-tailed gray and white kittens and capuchin monkeys frolicking about! It's so perfect here.

I ain't leaving.