April 1st rolls around. You vaguely acknowledge that it’s time to do your taxes. You have time.
You still have time. You actively ignore the fact that you have shit to do.
It is now April 7th. It’s getting closer. Yet you just don’t want to know the outcome.
FUCK HOW DID IT GET TO BE APRIL 13 WTFWTFWTF.
The stage in which you run to the nearest H&R Block, sign up for TurboTax, or send an email to your accountant in all caps: HELP ME, OH PLEASE HELP ME.
Taxes are apparently not written in English. It seems like English?
Your tax person/program is now asking you all sorts of things you don’t want to go through the nuisance of figuring out. Miles driven to and from work? I dunno….one million?
After recovering from your brief freakout, you relax, realizing it must be the fault of your accountant. Because SURELY this cannot be. J’ACCUSE!
The numbers are correct. Yet you still do not understand why. You are a good person. Good people need money, too.
12. Whatever the opposite of patriotism is.
C’mon kids! We’re going off the grid.
14. Reluctant acceptance.
It is what it is. Plus, society, America, roads, schools, citizen duty. (The anti-patriot stage is brief.)
Otherwise known as the “sucking it up” phase. And also feeling kind of bad because your accountant obviously knows what he’s doing and is a good human being.
It’s over. It’s all over. We’re still here. We’re alive.