April 2023

Enter the Totals in the Boxes - 1, 1A, 2, 4B, and 11F
By: Vicki Wentz / Vicki’s Voice
Twelve more days until tax day. Twelve days left
to put a few coins in the collection basket, get
a pedicure, or buy those Crest White-Strips…or,
maybe, eat.
Because in twelve more days the government that rarely “giveth”
will nevertheless “taketh away.” And April (a month that begins with a
day dedicated to making folks look like
fools) will officially be the driving force
behind many an occupied barstool.
In twelve days, people will be
wandering the streets with stunned,
confused, desperate looks on their
faces, carrying wrinkled, tear-stained
1040s, trying to convince the waitress at
Starbucks (who’s 19 and working there
for “party money”) that his bathroom
really IS a home office!
Seriously, April 15 is such a horrible
date that I’m surprised the whole month hasn’t hung its head in
shame, withdrawn from the calendar and leapt from the nearest
bridge…which I’m personally considering because, according to my
accountant, apparently I, alone, will be financing the entire War on
Drugs.
So, I’ve decided to start writing stuff off. Why not? The only reason
I haven’t done it up to now is that I have no idea what it means. I’m
embarrassed to ask.
My friends are professional people, vital cogs in the workforce, all of
whom “write off” something every 14 seconds. It was difficult to admit
my ignorance, but I’ve reconsidered.
At first, I thought writing something off - for work, let’s say - meant
I could subtract the amount I paid for
something, like a box of pencils or a
book of stamps (or fixing the dent in
my laptop created by my accidentally
throwing it off the deck on a 3-hour
call to Tech Support) from the total of
the taxes I owe.
Like, if I owed $400 in taxes, I could
take $2.00 off for the pencils, and $7.40
for the stamps...and maybe $1,800 for
the new laptop. When I realized that
this meant the more I spent, the more
THEY would owe ME, I suspected I might be wrong. Call me cynical.
I know this much – writing off does not involve the actual act of
writing. Just kidding, I know more than that.
I know it involves paying lower taxes, and I’m a big supporter of
that. Also, it involves hoarding vast amounts of paper – receipts, check
registers, e-mails, mileage charts, and ideas scribbled on cocktail
napkins during crucial dinner meetings at Applebee’s – and then filing
these documents in logical, sequential, alphabetical and/or categorical
order in a nifty filing cabinet.
I will stink at this. I never save receipts. I just write notes to myself in
my checkbook.
Last month, balancing the checkbook, I came upon a perplexing
debit entry of $235.00. Did I panic? Nope. Because I’d written a tiny note
right beside the entry that said, “Trust me.”
So, I did. Why shouldn’t I? I would never lie to me. If the government
doesn’t feel that same trust, hey, that’s their issue.
Plus, I don’t have room for all that paper. I can’t afford a filing
cabinet because after paying last year’s taxes, all my money is tied up
in KEEPING ME ALIVE!
So, it will just be crammed into the garment bag where I still keep
my size-8 wedding dress, or stuffed into the hole in the dog’s bed, and
either way, come tax time I’ll forget where I put it.I’m thinking a
column about paying your taxes, besides being obviously patriotic and
helpful to the IRS, would totally be a write-off! But how much is one
column worth?
Modesty forbids my estimation, but what is the value of a fresh breeze
across your brow as you sit beneath an oak on a hot afternoon, a cold,
sweating glass of lemonade in your hand? Just sayin’…
44
April 2023
Vicki Wentz is a writer, teacher and speaker living in North
Carolina. Readers may contact her - and order her new children’s
book! - by visiting her website at www.vickiwentz.com.