Just when you think life couldn't get to be any more fun. I finished figuring our income taxes. Not only is there no refund, but it looks like we'll OWE money this year (we're still filing jointly at this point). Oh, the irony - we both took out 401(k) money when we changed jobs, because the cash was needed. And now that's bumped us up into another tax bracket, enough to where we owe. Property taxes on the house are due this month - I don't have the money, don't know where it's going to come from. I've filed bankruptcy, no one will extend me any credit. I don't make enough money to pay my freakin' attorney occupation taxes, and my company doesn't cover them (we get a princely $300 for professional dues and expenses, which barely covers my state bar dues, and doesn't touch local bar association dues and these stupid attorney occupation taxes), so they haven't been paid for 2004. That means I'm now suspended from the practice of law in the state of Texas. I'm not in good standing, therefore I can't look for a job that pays more, because no one will hire me if I'm not in good standing.
COULD LIFE POSSIBLY SUCK ANY MORE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
(I'd better not say that too loudly, because it probably could.)
All I want is to make enough to pay my bills, take care of J, save a little for my retirement and his education, and not have to constantly stress and scrimp and save and worry about money. Is that so much to ask? Apparently it is, because I can't seem to get it done. Every year money gets worse and worse. It's to the point now where my credit is a wreck, I have no savings (seven cents at last check), I have no safety net (no 401(k) money to borrow against or draw from), so I'm screwed. I don't know what to do, I don't know how things will ever get better, and I'm beginning to doubt they ever will. I'll have to work forever, they'll carry my cold, dead body away from whatever half-assed job I can get when I'm 85, and I'll die penniless, leaving J nothing to inherit but my debts.
And what am I doing at work today? Processing distribution requests from people with trust funds. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! I could scream. They call or fax in requests, wanting money for this or that. "I need, I need, I need, I want, I want, I want." And boo hoo, it's never enough. I want to tell them, shut up, you could have to *work* for a living like the rest of us schlubs.
I'm so stressed out, I can't even eat. Not even chocolate. Now that's bad.