![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm Death, not Taxes. I come only once.
Jan. 31st, 2002 07:28 pmJanuary's not even over yet! I can't be done with my taxes!
...er, well, ok. I'm not. I don't think I've got my interest income (all, what, six dollars?) from the bank, and I need to double check how much of my student loan interest I can deduct, but hey - preliminary figures suggest a refund. Even after the three hundred the Shrub gave us back in the when. This makes me happy. I can use a refund.
The heating guy's still here. They took a look Monday, after we'd finally badgered the landlord enough, and they were supposed to show up bright and early Wednesday. Wednesday night, my radiator was still a lump of cold metal. The landlord called me at 2 to get me to go home to let them in at 3. Grr.
(And tomorrow I have to show my boss the surgtech webfaq that I should have been working on for the past few months, and haven't been.)
Not only that, he wants to get paid. The landlord (and more specifically, his checkbook) aren't here. Frantic calls hither and yon finally get the credit card number, and he starts draining the system. Four hours later, and he's only just refilling things again. Urk.
...er, well, ok. I'm not. I don't think I've got my interest income (all, what, six dollars?) from the bank, and I need to double check how much of my student loan interest I can deduct, but hey - preliminary figures suggest a refund. Even after the three hundred the Shrub gave us back in the when. This makes me happy. I can use a refund.
The heating guy's still here. They took a look Monday, after we'd finally badgered the landlord enough, and they were supposed to show up bright and early Wednesday. Wednesday night, my radiator was still a lump of cold metal. The landlord called me at 2 to get me to go home to let them in at 3. Grr.
(And tomorrow I have to show my boss the surgtech webfaq that I should have been working on for the past few months, and haven't been.)
Not only that, he wants to get paid. The landlord (and more specifically, his checkbook) aren't here. Frantic calls hither and yon finally get the credit card number, and he starts draining the system. Four hours later, and he's only just refilling things again. Urk.
