So. . . . my van is making a strange little squeaky whistly kind of noise that is going to a mandate a trip to the shop before I can make that long drive down to see my father and stepmother again. I've been avoiding the shop because of the condition of the interior of my car, otherwise known as your local landfill: dishes, food, magazines, books, student projects, CDs, clothing, mail. . . you get the idea. Today, however, due to a happy confluence of balmy weather and some free time, I decided to excavate. I still needed boots, since the back porch steps are encased in ice, but I didn't need a jacket or gloves for my many trips in and out of the house.
I found some clementines, but they were pretty old. I found an earring that I've been looking for, but I just realized as I wrote that down that I have no idea where I set it for safekeeping. I brought in stacks of paper and decided to leave last year's extra yearbooks in storage in the back of the car, where they have been since. . . well, since last spring.
I was feeling so chipper, what with all my progress, that I decided that it was also a good time to sort through the week's mail. Now, the main mail that has arrived over the last ten days or so has been tax-related, and it makes quite a stack. Or two or three stacks. But I cheerfully plowed forward. I do have to get the tax returns done, since the federal financial aid people are eargerly awaiting the disclosure of all the humiliating details of our lives. . And that's when I discovered . . .
I had lost my W-2.
I went through all the papers. The ones in the kitchen and the ones in the hall and the ones in the dining room. Several times. The ones in the trash, too. I went through the car, although by now it is so pristine that any stray piece of paper would leap out and yell. I went through my shiny new health insurance binder. I went through the trash again. Finally, well after the day's close of business hours, I resigned myself to the knowledge that I would have to request a duplicate on Monday morning, at no small expense to myself, I'm sure.
And then I found it. Sigh.
If someone PAID me for all the time that I spend looking for essential little envelopes and forms, I would be so rich that I wouldn't NEED a W-2.
7 comments:
I live in my car....it is a wreck.
A woman's car is a dumpster on wheels! My car has so much crap in it, it's embarassing. That is the bad thing about vans - no trunk to shut it all away, out of sight. Glad you found the W2.
I get into those kinds of situations--losing little important bits of paper. It makes me want to tear my hair out. Lisa :-]
Whew! Glad you found your W-2. They say, "A clean car is a sign of a disturbed mind." I have the best of both worlds: I have a disturbed mind as well as a dirty car! LOL.
Friday afternoons always find me rummaging through the passenger seat and floorboard in our car. I keep all my to-be-read books in the car, since I live in it Mon-Fri. PLus those important papers that are traveling from home to school to doctors to the post office. But come Friday it must all be picked up, since my DH's car seats 2 and we use mine as the family car on the weekends. He can't understand how I can drive a car so messy. Umm, looks just like my house?
Hey! Thanks for cleaning out my car! Oh, wait, never mind. It just sounded so similar to mine.
Well, we've discussed this before. My youngest daughter seems to have taken after my DH in the paper losing gene. She discovered she lost a paper describing a project she has due on Monday. I had to write the teacher a note today requesting a new one because she was afraid to ask for one.
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