Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Taxes: Filed.

My taxes take me FOREVER. I've got a 2" binder full of statements and receipts and mileage logs and calendars and invoices and anything else business related. I live in fear of the audit, but I claim every penny I make. I think I might be the only musician in the world who pays sales tax on CDs sold at a live show.

I overly obsess about my taxes because my mom works for the Kentucky Department of Revenue. She has instilled the Fear of the Revenue Service within me, without ever intending to. I am afraid of one thing only in this world: an audit. (Well, maybe spiders too.) And I claim everything and do everything right, but I'm still constantly concerned that I'm going to be audited.

All this time, I thought that it was my mom's job and her accounting degree that caused my obsession with taxes and my fear of audits. But I recently learned something:

My parents were audited by the IRS when they were pregnant with me. Obviously, I was deeply affected -- in the womb -- by the presence of the evil IRS auditor, much like some babies are affected by Baby Genius CDs or Mozart or the sound of their mother's voice. I think all I heard was, "Do you have a receipt for that?"

I just filed a 47-page tax return and am breathing a huge sigh of relief ... until next April.

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