This is the tax season that may never end.
It was probably between lines 35 and 37, estimating our 2011 taxes. I was writing in another set of numbers. And before the reason fully settled in, I felt the full force of idiocy wave through my system.
My first mistake on my taxes and a whole filing year had passed.
I’d forgotten to claim my brother as a dependent for tax year 2010.
I could blame it on any number of things: Sheer carelessness, rushing through the taxes, not double checking my work, filing in a new home, or just plain being so mad at him he was financially dead to me.
Fact remained, I was an idiot.
And I had to meet Mssrs. 540x and 1040x.
For the record: If you’re not a neurotic fool, *ahem* you will read the instructions first like a normal human and find that it’s not actually all the difficult to fill out a correction. Twice. Once for state and once for federal. Because let’s face it, when you screw up claiming a dependent, you will have screwed it up on both.
In total, if I hadn’t gone back and spent too much time doing it wrong the first pass for three hours fussing over unnecessarily recreating the previous tax form and then taking a second, sane, pass at 30 minutes per form getting it right, I would have forever lost more than $3000.
The I.R.S. has already paid me back with a gentle nudge of a correction because I made a math error but they didn’t hold that against me and cut a check anyway.
The state of California still hasn’t paid ten weeks later, giving me a financial noogie, to rub it in that much more.
Bonus Round
To extend the pain cycle, I couldn’t even finish up our 2011 taxes because: We. Are. Still. Waiting. On. A. Schedule. K.
Hello, Filing for an Extension. For the first time in thirteen years of employed life.
No, I’m not bitter that I’m still not done with filing taxes in July, when I’ve always been done with taxes/FAFSA by February 2nd, why do you ask?
I’ve booked time in August to file the dratted thing. [Long dramatic sigh.]
Welcome to married life! Whereupon you hitch your star to the other guy and you apparently can’t do everything on your own time anymore. Apparently. *chagrined grin* No, obviously I’m not perfect. I just have my thing about getting taxes done by a certain time and we are oh-so-very-late.