This has been a big week for me in terms of life revelations. I found a reason to have children AND a reason to become a British citizen.
This year was the first year my parents said (in February), “You need to make sure you file your taxes.” I said, “OK,” and now it’s the deadline in three days and I haven’t filed my taxes yet. I’m scared.
Being an adult isn’t very fun. I don’t want to file taxes. If I become a British citizen I’ll never have to file taxes again, unless I become self-employed.
Yes, that’s correct. I pay taxes over here and I don’t have to file a tax return. “They” do it for me, and I carry on living my life.
Filing a tax return is the kind of thing that makes you start thinking, “My parents should have to do this for me. I didn’t ask to be born, so why am I being punished? You aren’t just a parent for 18 years, you are a parent for life! Who do they think they are?? The audacity!”
I want to go back in the womb. Kind of like Benjamin Button, except my story wouldn’t be so gawddang boring and make people paralyzed with rage that they wasted three hours of their life watching one of the worst movies ever made, and then have to hear obnoxious, self-obsessed, a-doublesnakes-holes talk for months about how the film was “beautiful” and “Oscar-worthy.” No, no it wasn’t. I don’t want to be friends with anyone who can look me in the eye and honestly say that was a good movie. There’s being tolerant of other people’s opinions, and then there’s this movie.
So, who wants to be my friend? This offer is on the table only until April 18.