Happy Tax Day, America

Today is April 15th, and you know what that means: Taxes.

Since I'm the kind of person who has to pay, I'm also the kind of person who files on April 15th. However, this year we actually get until the 17th to get it done, so I'm feeling positively virtuous by having it done on the 15th.

Part of my procrastination is because...well...I'm a procrastinator. But the other part is that I can't quite reconcile the domestic problems that are untended in this country with the massive outlay of dollars...tax dollars...my tax dollars...that is being spent to destroy Iraq and it's citizenry.

C'mon, George! We've already plunged them into civil war and destabilized the region. Now can we address the massive national budget shortfalls for a while?

I bitterly resent my tax dollars being spent on this war, about as much as I resent being forced to provide "homeland security" for Wyoming because it's Dick Cheney's home state.

I know if I were a terrorist, Wyoming would be my first target.

For some reason, more homeland security dollars are spent in places like Wyoming and Montana per capita than in places like New York and Los Angeles.

Even though I love Southern Illinois, it seems insane to me that my hospital got a multi-million dollar windfall from the homeland security budget. My lab alone received a super-duper quarter million dollar blood banking instrument with ongoing software issues. But hey...it'll protect us when Al Quaeda comes pouring into Southern Illinois and we need to crossmatch 20 people at a time.

So since I'm a pinko commie liberal, I'd like my share of the annual tax windfall to be spent on protecting Americans in a more tangible, meaningful way. Maybe on universal healthcare or development of alternative energy sources or a treatment for antibiotic resistant bacteria or something. Or hell, just patch I-57 once in a while; I'm not picky.

It just pisses me off that I work 2000 hours every year and pay into the system so that the army can have one more missile to blow up one more Iraqi wedding party.

A Vast, Yawning, Cavernous Weekend...And Some Responsibility

Today is the day that there is officially less than a month until Tax Day. What that ought to mean is that I'll go to Wal-Mart and buy TurboTax, figure out my taxes, and mail the government a big fat check.

What it will actually mean is that now I'll begin watching the calender with dread, knowing that I should be doing those things. Eventually, when my anxiety reaches critical mass, I'll do it. And it'll be so easy and quick that I'll wonder why I dragged my feet and put myself through all that stress.

How can you understand your own psychology and still fall victim to it??

It's also the Friday that preceeds my every-other-weekend with Lori, so we're looking around for some fun things to do with it. Maybe a day trip to Nashville or Memphis? I think it's going to be too cold to go fishing.....

Maybe we can go to Rural King!

Maybe...and this is almost too cool to contemplate...we could go to Rural King in Nashville!

I actually don't have any idea what's in Nashville besides the Grand Ole Opry and the Country Music Hall of Fame. I used to drive through it a lot when Carol was living in North Carolina and I was in Illinois, but I was somewhat focused on the goal, so I didn't stop to investigate much except the bathrooms on the highway.

But people go to Nashville, and we're people...ergo, we should go to Nashville. Maybe it's full of cool regional Nashville-y stuff, like sparkly electric guitars and ostrich boots...not that I've ever seen an ostrich in boots.

And yes, if all the other kids jumped off a bridge I would jump, Mom.