Forget Criss Angel or David Copperfield, if you really want to see an astounding illusionist you should swing by my accountant's office while he's doing my taxes. I don't know how he does it, and I don't want to know. I'm afraid if I look through the gory details I'll get queasy. This is the closest I've ever cut it, the tax returns delivered by FedEx last night.
The high powered, high priced CPA was the one luxury I allowed myself to hang onto from my former life and I'm thanking my lucky stars I did. And luck had something to do with it as he normally doesn't deal with riff raff like me, which is what I've become since my income dropped to a fraction of what I once made. But for old time's sake, and a hefty fee, he agreed to keep me on.
All I know is a few weeks ago I owed tens of thousands of dollars to the IRS and today I owe not much more than I now owe him. And he's worth every penny of it.
And a huge shout out to the dysfunctional State of California, which just last week temporarily changed state law to stop taxing the debt forgiven in a Short Sale. When you do a Short Sale, like we had to do on the house in LA, you sell the house for less than is owed on it and the bank agrees to "forgive" the difference. Up until last Thursday, California considered that "income" and taxed it. And in my case, the banks forgave a lot... I could buy a house with a pool in Bako for what they forgave. Last Wednesday I owed the State so much money that selling both kidneys wouldn't even cover it. Today I'm getting a refund.
If that's not magical, I don't know what is.
