The Taxman Cometh...
Except Joseph did a bunch of freelance work this year, and we spent every last dime that he brought home. That big whooshing sound is our tax refund being sucked down the drain from the taxes we didn't pay on that income.
So, as a loyal employee I'm spending my last days at this job doing my taxes online, except I'm having problems getting all the information I need, like how much interest we paid on our student loans. I keep checking my email for the pin #s I need to log on to the Direct Loans page, but NOTHIN'. Stupid hotmail.
As a result, I'll spend a few moments studying on the lameness of being 29 and asking my parents for money. Hey, they offered! And our last $200 is going to childcare, leaving us with $45 to fill our gas tanks up. *SIGH*
It feels like this will never end. Like we will be paying hundreds of dollars a year in bank fees for the rest of our lives because we're such money morons. Which really, we're not. We drive modest cars and don't go out to eat more than once a week, never go to movies or the bar, man, we should be like those old people who never indulge in anything and have giant savings accounts. Except we aren't.
I keep looking for something to blame, whether it's our house in a too-nice neighborhood, or the exorbitant cost of childcare. When we do our budget, we always have a ton of money left over, on paper, but it never works. Blah. Repeat after me: "We have our health. Our kids are well-behaved. The sex is..." oh, never mind.