Saturday

Overtaxed: coyote's late post

When I was a younger, dumber doggy, I mistakenly signed up for a Social Insurance Number.

Imagine my complete disappointment when I found that I'd misheard the pitch (an old inner-ear problem, exacerbated by an unfortunate one-track mind...) and realized that I now had to deal with tax returns rather than cat returns.

Imagine my further chagrin when I found out that SINs indeed condemn you to Hell. In Revenue Canada's eyes, once you're in, you fry forever. No matter if you're a semimythical coyote with no visible means of support barring fast paws and a larcenous soul. One youthful moment of misguided drooliness dooms you to file annual tax forms in perpetuity.

I want to make it clear that I have no objection to income taxes themselves. (This places me firmly in the minority back my old Alberta stomping grounds. I digress.) But aside from the fact that I don't actually pay them, I believe the social safety net and other services that they finance make this a far better country than the alternative.

No, it's the diabolical forms. Every year, those twisted <redacteds> at Revenue Canada change them. The net result is always pretty much the same, but those annual new and ummm, interesting, calculation methods to arrive there, drive me freakin' crazy.

No hackneyed comments, please, about what a short trip that is. I shall nap now. Awaken me in refund season.
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