Thursday, April 05, 2007

wherein my materialism surprises me

I like to think that I'm emotionally removed from my things, so that I don't value them much in comparison to greater, immaterial things.

But as I sit here in the heat of my second bout of self-employment tax-filing, I've caught myself two times singing love songs to my money.

One is a weird version of "Monday, Monday," that's about tax day ("every other day - every other day of the year is fine, yeah. But whenever tax day comes you can find me crying, all of the time . . .").

The other is "All My Loving" with the refrain "all my money, I will send to you / All my money, if my Schedule C is true." Which, I guess, is actually a song TO the IRS.

Singing love songs (albeit re-written) to the IRS is just wrong.

I think I need a new soundtrack.

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