I’ve been trying to get a new blog post out for days, but it’s the wrong time of year for getting anything done — anything but taxes, that is. Every time I have a spare moment to sit down and write, my husband calls with another request for financial information. We go through this every year, just like millions of other couples across America, scrambling to get all the little bits and pieces of our financial lives organized so we can present them to a tax preparer and he can fill out the tortuous, Byzantine forms the IRS demands. It really is a colossal undertaking. No wonder Tim Geithner had trouble figuring it all out.
So please be patient, gentle readers. There are stacks of newspapers on my desk with juicy stories just begging to be blogged about, but unfortunately they’re buried under bank statements, credit card receipts, MS Money printouts, K-1 and W-4 forms and all the other minutiae of modern fiscal life.
That handsome devil in DC says I’ve got to get my skin in the game, so getting it I am. If I don’t dot all my i’s and cross all my t’s carefully, the Boss may take time out from his busy schedule of firing the CEOs of automobile manufacturers and send some of Mr. Geithner’s minions after little old me.