It’s Tax Day today, and if you’re anything like me it means you put this off to the last possible minute. After unsuccessfully trolling for accountants on OKCupid last night, I eventually turned to TurboTax. Much like my grandma who always asks me why I didn’t bring someone home for Christmas, TurboTax also manages to rub my relationship status in my face, year after year:
Ultimately it wasn’t that bad. I even got money back because as we know, I’m very big into charity. Even though I stopped I supporting my child in the Dominican Republic last year, I did donate two garbage bags of dresses and accessories to the The Brown Elephant, which is kind of the same thing.
And you can only imagine my surge of patriotism when while e-filing I learned that Uncle Sam considers being a Disaster a tax write-off. Why else would those wrinkled, champagne-stained chiffon dresses and extra strength support girdles be tax deductible?
Thanks to my 2011 tax refund, I’m in the money, and some Disasterella is going to give my dresses a second chance. In their former life they were worn to bed by a passed-out bridesmaid with Cheetos-stained fingers. But not this year. This year they will be worn with heels without orthopedic inserts and will wind up on the floor at the end of the night thanks to a grabby groomsman.
And that, Dear Disasters, is a tax write-off that warms the heart.
Here’s to 2012!
