.

Okay, I'm flabbergasted.


For the last three years, I have not made enough money to pay my income taxes. I kept putting off filing, one of those dumbass procrastination things where you hope it'll go away, especially when your income is so low that it's a tossup whether you'll end up with a bill you can't pay or you'll owe nothing at all. I haven't gotten any money BACK from the IRS for at least fifteen years now, so it was one or the other, and on top of the rest of my woes, I really wanted to hide my head in the sand and pretend the inevitable bills wouldn't exist.

Then about six weeks ago, I got a polite letter from the Feds saying basically, "Where the hell's the paper?" I made a few phone calls, got the info on forms, found out where the local IRS office is so I could keep being an asshat and file on THE VERY LAST DAY.

Yeah, I know. But I did it! And crossed my fingers that at least last year, when I hardly worked at all, might count to give me back a couple of hundred bucks to help buy groceries. (For those of you who don't know, which I know is practically everybody on my list, I've been on disability, unable to work for the last year because of a workplace injury. But that's a story for another time.) So I've been dreading the inevitable letter saying You owe us $X, please send your firstborn, kthxbi.


Just now, my dad knocked on my door, handed me my Netflix discs and three envelopes. From the U.S. Treasurey. Three window envelopes. With checks in them.


( DRUM ROLL, PLEASE )


I'm gonna go try and think now. Wish me luck.


( ETA: )