Saturday, March 23, 2013
SLICE #23- In which I encounter a few detours
Posted yesterday about daffodils, then woke this morning to a blizzard. Ok, maybe not a real blizzard, not one of those two feet of snow, the power's off for a week blizzards like all my New England friends have experienced all winter, but it is a good 8 inches of snow, and still coming down hard, and sideways, a nice day to stay inside and read or bake cookies or finish my taxes that I started two weeks ago kind of day.
I decide I will finish my taxes. The ones I started two weeks ago. When I had deluded myself into believing that my organizational skills might be getting a little better.
I actually did quite a bit on my taxes two weeks ago. Now I am at the point where I need to go through my bank statements and find all of the charges for my son's college tuition, Kinko's, International Reading Association, etc. And yes, I am very much aware that there are some people who have systems in which they keep track of those kinds of tax deductible expenses throughout the year, and thus do not have to spend hours sorting through bank accounts during tax season.
And no, I am not one of those people.
So this morning, after I have procrastinated for an hour or so- eaten breakfast, responded to a few slices, started a load of laundry, looked out the window to calculate the amount of snow that has fallen, chatted with a high school acquaintance on Facebook- I decide that I will log on to my bank account and begin working on my taxes.
The problem is, I can't log on.
I try to call the customer service line to identify the problem.
I get a recording saying that I am calling after business hours.
I'm pretty sure, actually positive, that they are open for two more hours, and so I decide that I will just head over to the bank. I bundle up in my warm clothes and slog out to the car. I should shovel, but I am determined to do my taxes, and I want to make sure that I arrive at the bank before it closes.
Unfortunately, my car is buried under a foot of snow.
I hunt down the snow brush. We have had a really mild winter, no snow at all until mid-February, and I haven't used it much at all. When I dig it out from under the seat, I remember that Son #1 told me that he broke it when he was home in December. The handle is now only about six inches long. I realize I am going to need a different implement.
I slog back to the house for the snow shovel, then back out to the car.
I shovel the foot of the snow off of the car, then throw the shovel in the back, so that I won't have to slog back to the house. I head for the bank. The roads are either 1) plowed and icy, icy, icy OR 2) not plowed and like driving through a snow drift. I persevere. I am determined to finish my taxes.
The bank parking lot has been plowed, kind of. It's warm enough, I guess for the plowed snow to start melting. I slog through about six inches of water and arrive at the front door with my feet and the bottom of my jeans dripping wet.
The bank is usually crowded, but today it's empty. Empty that is, except for two tellers and three people waiting to see the customer service manager that I need to see. The teller informs me that my wait will be an hour.
"No problem," I say. I sit there for about five minutes before I decide I need something to read. The bank doesn't have any magazines, but I remember I have Will Hobbs' newest book in my work bag in the car.
I slog back out through the foot of water, get my book, and head back in to wait. Now my feet and the bottom of my jeans are beyond wet.
I read for 20 minutes and am just getting to a good part when the bank manager comes out to talk to me. Their system is down. She won't be able to fix my account until 1:00. She promises she will do it before she goes home, but that it will be a while.
I tell her I really need to do my taxes.
She tells me that I don't have to worry, that she will take care of it, but that I don't need to wait.
I slog back out to the car and head for home. On the way, I remember that there was an issue with a bank account at a different bank this summer. The account had to be closed. I will need to go to that bank to get the rest of my information.
I head for that bank. The 15-minute trip takes about 45 minutes. This time, I don't chance it. I take Will Hobbs with me into the bank, just in case I have to wait. I explain my situation to the banker. He prints out the information I need and I am on my way. No wait at all.
I head for home.
I am determined to finish my taxes.