Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
A great weight came off of my shoulders last night, one I didn’t even realize I was carrying. It wasn’t because of a good Gilmore Girls episode (although last night’s was great), and it wasn’t because of a good day at work (or just being thankful that I have a job to spend the day at).
It was the taxes. Finishing them. Knowing (finally) whether it’s “taxes owed” or “refund”. This was the first year we’ve done our taxes ourselves since we started filing jointly, and we couldn’t have picked a more complicated year (thanks to the aforementioned stock sales and buying/selling houses).
I was giddy afterwards. Giddy. Giggling for no reason giddy. Pondering what to do with “the money”…
PDA :: this is what I’d like to do with some of my portion of the refund — get a really good PDA that I wouldn’t feel like trading in for awhile — my dad taught me not to buy cheap when buying something you’re going to use — get the best you can intelligently afford, without getting useless bells and whistles your regret paying for.
Furniture :: we’ve got some very empty rooms that could use a little filling. One very nice thing to get would be a real bed for the guest room, while still leaving enough room in there for… oh, I don’t know, a crib. (That’s not an announcement, just wishful thinking.)
Plastic :: Let me explain the naked rooftop jig I dance upon paying off credit cards. Actually, I don’t think I’ll explain — the word-picture should be enough for most of you.
~
That’s just the stuff we came up with off the top of our heads in five minutes last night, to say nothing of getting the sprinklers fixed and other boring stuff (like getting the correct tags on my license plates).
We would have come up with more ideas, I think, but once “naked rooftop jig” came up, the conversation sort of deteriorated.
