14 April 2008


The best thing about doing the taxes, the very best moment, is when I have to tear the house apart looking for one elusive piece of paper.

This year, it was the mortgage interest statement.

Instead of the mortgage interest statement, I found two modems stashed in the cabinets above my desk, along with four autographed photos that have been languishing up there for oh...two, three, four? years. A USB cord. A phone cord with a DSL filter attached. How long has it been since I had DSL? A recipe I thought I'd lost. The takeout menu for the local Indian restaurant. The nameplate from my last office. Random CDs, a planner from 2003/04.

Mortgage interest statement?

Empty envelopes. A notecard. A notebook with plans for the backyard relandscaping project (which, nearly four years later, still makes me apoplectic. Sadly, a story best left untold if only because the name I persist in calling the landscaper is absolutely unprintable). Exercises to rehabilitate my left foot (18 months old), and right ankle (that was almost six years ago). Next to them? Ace bandage clips.

Mortgage interest statement?

Discount cards for three grocery stores. Nordstrom Notes (I can still use them!!!) that date back more than 2 years. Receipts for an airline flight taken 7 months ago. A four-year-old concert ticket.

Another sheaf of recipes that I would never make in a million years, and can't figure out why I'd bother to keep them. My old cell phone. A box of magazines I've not read.

Around the time it becomes clear that I'm not going to find the mortgage interest statement, I realize that I'm also missing a brokerage statement. The Big Entertainment Company I once worked for spun off some of its holdings, so now I have some new stock from another place that I can't remember anyway, and the statement is gone.

And so are at least three receipts from various charities.

Did I accidentally throw that stuff away? Did it go to the same black hole that swallowed the daughter's Spring portraits? Did I *gasp* grind it up in the shredder without realizing it?

When did I get so damned disorganized?

Go listen to some good music: "Taxman" from the album The Best of George Harrison by George Harrison.

No comments: