I awoke last night at 3am, as usual, and stared at the ceiling worrying. My huge project at work is due on Thursday. I’ve still got to get my car fixed. I haven’t been to a dentist in like, multiple years. And, what else…I haven’t done my taxes!
Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god.
It’s April 12th.
Normally, my dad sends me to some dude in West Portal, but this year, Big Chris claimed he could do my apparently “easy” tax returns. So, I blew off tax dude and forgot about it. Promising Big C. I’d get a copy of last year’s taxes and my 2 little see-thru forms from work, I’ve been skipping along March and April confident in the knowledge that with enough Tecate and Taqueria Cancun, I’d save some cash and rely on the genius of my beloved burrito buddy.
It is now April 12th. And I realized this at 3am last night. Big Chris is going to kill me.
I tossed and turned, totally freaking out. I’ll have to get an extension. I’ll pay all kinds of penalties. I’m totally going to jail.
I awoke this morning to the following e-mail from Big C.
If you still want me to do your taxes let me know.Also please call your accountant and get your return from last year so I can see how it was done. Taxes are due this Monday, April 17th.
Peace out playa.
Big Chris, I love you.
I responded immediately, and pointed out that jail or not, I’d be at a spa in another state this weekend, and we had to do my taxes either tonight or tomorrow.
Cool. I'm going to the giants game tonight so I'll come by your place and do them tomorrow night. Call your accountant NOW and have him fax you the forms. Also I will not only do your taxes for you but you will sit with me and learn.It will be an educational evening. I will be your tax-Yoda.
I will never disparage the greatness of Big Chris, tax god and burrito buddy, again…