I like going to Corporate Behemoth. Beyond the aforementioned people-will-notice-if-I-die thing, the building is pretty swank. We have marble floors and art everywhere. And, we have a heated, underground parking garage.
A heated garage.
Have I mentioned that I’m from Iowa and a heated garage is like an unattainable level of nirvana for my peoples?
Corporate Behemoth’s building typically makes me want to wear nice shoes that I will clickety-click across the marble floors. And I find myself putting on lip gloss to walk through the lobby. After all, you just never know.
I have a coworker who tries to work from home three days a week. This astounds me. Is her house really nicer than this?
I found myself pulling out of the luxurious heated parking garage at 7:30 this evening. Because I really did work from 9 a.m. until 7:30 p.m. Because I am dedicated like that. Or I have no life like that. Or I am totally set up to fail in this job like that. Or some combination thereof.
And as I tooled around the heated parking garage in my exhaustion, I mulled over my options with moving some money around to help lessen my ginormous tax bill. Because I have options like that. Like I’m a grown-up.
Two years ago, I didn’t even make the amount of money that I owe in taxes this year. How in the hell did this happen – well, beyond incredibly poor money management? Two years ago, I was doing product demos and Windexing shelves at a retail job for $7 an hour. I wasn’t happy, but I knew better things were on the horizon.
So, it’s hard to be really, really upset about the tax bill. My dad made light of the situation. “Welcome to the world of the rich,” he said. “Now you have to start voting Republican.”
I’ll never be that rich.