Panic

Pure panic. I had my taxes done today at a volunteer program, free for those with low income. "Low income" here is considered under $40,000. HA HA HA! I grew up with the impression that if you made $40,000 a year, you were doing dang well. You bought brand name toothpaste. You didn't have peas, potatoes and milk for dinner every night when peas were in season. And you probably owned more than one TV.

Well, it suffices to say, I will not see the light of $40,000 in, ohhh, 38 years at the rate I am going. Which leads me to the title of this post... panic. Somehow, somewhere I must have filled out something wrong and not withheld enough. Making what I currently owe the IRS roughly two and a half weeks of work. "Don't panic," I told myself. "You can do this."

So I held back my tears in the office, broke down on my walk back to work, hid in the staircase waiting to look like my life wasn't falling apart, then sat listlessly at my desk attempting to care about what was in front of me. Then some more crying when I got home from work. Some more panicking. Some more feeling like this yawning gap of my financial situation was hopeless. Get a third job? Sell my eggs? Move into a box? Then again, feeling hopeless. I'm careful with my money. I work hard. And I feel like I never make progress. Student loans, electricity, food. I get paid and it all disappears, going negative.

So, "Think, think." I tell myself. Where is a spirit of thankfulness? Where is an eternal perspective? This is not the end of the world.

I love my job. I love my job tens times more than most people that make twice the money I do. I feel purpose and joy in it. I have an awesome apartment for an abnormally small price for its stellar location. I have two jobs when many people have none. Great family. I have a generous boyfriend who will let me borrow the money to pay my taxes and pay back interest free. I have friends willing to do free things, to meet for dessert instead of dinner. I hike after work, pour wine and get paid, dance on a regular basis. I have this and I have that and I have so much. Life is good.

So I'm going to go to bed right now and not worrying. Because it will do nothing. I will trust that God has my back. I'll know that there is purpose in this. I lack in trust, and restraint, that I need to build. I will not dissolve into tears when my head hits the pillow. That gets me nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.

And I'm changing my W-4's come tomorrow.

Fool me once IRS, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.