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The Essence of Time
by LaVonne Boruk
Have you done your taxes yet? April 15 is sneaking up fast. In fact, life is sneaking up on me. I'm reminded of that fact by the very first distribution of my IRA which I received a few days ago. I passed the landmark age 701/2 in January. Don't tell anybody. Actually, I didn't have to start drawing it out until April of 2001, but I was forced to take it early when I decided to transfer my account to a higher paying facility. Then I learned that since I have reached that magical age I have to take a distribution by law from the facility that held it before I can transfer it. I'm not sure that law makes any sense, but I have no choice in the matter. So now the big question is what do I do with the distribution.
I didn't want it in the first place, and I sure have no intention of spending it. I mean there is nothing in the law that says I must spend it. It only says I have to take it and pay taxes on it. Give Uncle Sam his due. I wish he'd wear less expensive suits and hats. Once I get that done, I'm free to do with it as I choose. So I took the minimum amount, and hope it doesn't slam me into that abyss of having to pay taxes on my Social Security. Wouldn't that be a lark! But then, well I know shoes are expensive, too, especially for someone as big-footed as dear old Uncle Sam. Guess I have to buy him a pair of socks and a tie, too.
I really don't have to worry about that until next year, though, and there are more pressing things on my mind for the 1999 tax year. I must pay taxes on the big, big money I received in the year 1999 for my published articles. All twenty dollars of it. Maybe that will buy Uncle some underwear. I doubt it would be enough for a nice shirt. Guess he'll have to buy his own shirt this year. Or maybe some other generous soul will buy one or two for him. I wish he'd let me deduct all my costs for paper and ink and SASE's. That should be enough to take care of the whole tax bill. But, I know he won't. He hasn't got that generous yet.
The current year is going to be better. Much better. I've already received more than twenty bucks for my writing and more is already earmarked for me. I just have to wait for the mail carrier to bring it. He comes regularly, rain, snow (boy have we had a lot of that lately), sleet (had some of that, too), or shine. It's raining today. Have faith. He'll be here. He may bring only bills and junk, but he'll be here. ‘Course, it may not be my mail he brings. He could take it to somebody else and bring theirs to me. But we'll see. They can have my bills and junk anyway. And if they pay them, so much the better.
I have to go now, and figure my taxes. One thing's for sure, though. Just like me, Uncle Sam's going to have to wear his same old winter coat next year. Unless he finds a rich woman to marry.
©2000 LaVonne Boruk
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