You're a Refund

Just finished estimating my tax returns. While a good portion of this country dies a little inside when tax season rolls around, I eagerly await it. As an unemployed loaf money has reached a near sacred status to me, clinging onto any bit of shell with the fanaticism of a zealot, & hot-diggity, am I excited. Sure, partly my enthusiasm has to do with how easy my taxes are, no sorting though year old receipts or itemized deductions, no hope credit or special forms, just fill out that one page, lick the postage stamps & rub my hands together anticipatorily, grinning like a twelve year old with the recompense of one summer’s worth of mowing lawns & washing neighbours’ cars burning a hole in his pocket & still two weeks before school starts. Wait, did I say postage stamps?!? I use my comp as an entertainment center, downloading MP3s as I watch the special features of a DVD, checking my email every ten minutes, I read my news online, I use keyboard short-cuts on a pc, I blog for god’s sake. The only time I use the term ‘postage stamp’ is in conjuncture with ‘tap water’, ‘land line’, or ’16 bit’, & other such archaic phrases one uses to define & date the crude & oafish standards which the previous generation employed to gauge the worth of their life. Of course, I’m going to e-file, of course. Postage stamps, geez, I collect the scanned replicas of postage stamps & that’s only to be retro-cool & sorta as a joke.