The Grim Reaper and the Tax Man

There are only two certainties in life –death and taxes. Right now death seems preferable. I’m not rehashing old adagesfor nothing, they quite often have their roots in uncomfortable truths.
So. why is death preferable to taxes? Deathonly happens once. Taxes come every year. After death you get to go to heaven.After tax season you get nothing and most likely end up having to paysomething. I’d rather face the Grim Reaper any day than the Tax Man.
“The more youearn, the less you keep,
And now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to take,
If the tax-collector hasn’t got it before I wake.”
~Ogden Nash
Despite promises that doing your tax returnis now easier than ever, it is not. Yes, I can now do it online, but I’d stand a better chance of deciphering the Rosetta Stone. 
I approach taxes in the sameway an ostrich deals with danger. I prefer to bury my head in the sand and hopeit will all go away. It usually works, because eventually my husband realisesthat I am paralysed and the only way it will get done is if he does it.
This year this tried and tested techniqueis falling flat. Instead I am taking a half-day off to befuddle my brain. Myhusband is quite right when he describes my reaction to Excel spreadsheets andtaxes like watching the veils of Salome fall down in front of my eyes. It’s asurvival mechanism, like a chameleon.
Perhaps if I ignore the spectre of the TaxMan long enough he’ll get bored and go away. Why doesn’t he hassle someone withmore money thane me, like Kenny Kunene and Julius Malema? Hassling me is a lotlike turning a piggy bank over and shaking it really hard, chances are youmight get a few coppers, but hardly enough to make the effort worthwhile.
I know there are countries with higher taxrates than mine, but it seems the general populous in those get more bang fortheir buck. I don’t get healthcare, education, a pension, roadworks or anythingelse. My salary (pitiful though it is) is too high to qualify for SouthAfrica’s equivalent of the dole is I happen to lose my job.
I’ve paid thousands this year for damage tomy car caused by potholes, I’m becoming inured to the scent of putrid sewageand am nearing bankruptcy due to school fees. The private school fees are anecessary evil as the likelihood of a South African child in the stateeducation system learning how to read before adulthood is zero to nothing. 
Yes, I do resent paying additional taxes. Ipay tax on my gas, tax on my salary, tax on my cigarettes, tax on every singlething I buy and now I have to pay extra tax to drive on highways that arealready falling apart. Perhaps our lot should go to Sweden and find out howthey do it?
All this bitching isn’t going to get themdone though. My stomach is surging in sick denial. Of course I don’t have allmy slips or my logbook, or anything else for that matter. My refusal to facethis nightmare has resulted in my paying R40 000 in taxes I don’t owe. If Ijust keep quoting that like a mantra, maybe I’ll get through this afternoon.
I’d rather flush my cash down the loo thanhand it over to the South African Revenue Service.

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