I’m not feeling particularly rosy this election day. Like a lot of people, I’ve been crunching numbers, gathering receipts and pouring a little more single malt into my glass in order to prepare for one of life’s more unpleasant inevitabilities — taxes. Now that I’m almost done, I think I may need another shot.
I worked all year, had approximately 25% of my wages taken out by the taxman, and now that April 15 draws near, I discovered that I still owe a hefty sum to Uncle Sam. In short, any money I managed to save over the course of a very long year of labor will be swallowed up paying more taxes.
It is disheartening to have a job in which I work 45-50 hours per week, commute 23 miles each way and sacrifice much of my personal life. To know that I am not the only one in this leaking life raft is not particularly comforting, either. As a country, we work harder and spend less time enjoying ourselves than many other countries. At times it seems like the new American dream consists of little more than a daily grind free from the constant harassment of bill collectors. Yippee!