Always look on the bright side of life (woo hoo, woo hoo, woo hoo, woo hoo)

Editor's Note: I wrote this on Thursday when all seemed horrid. Things are not quite so horrid this morning. I mean, I still owe the government a TON of money but I have been looking at the Bright Side of Life and feel ever so much better! :)

What I really want to do is list all the crappy things that are bringing me down. They're all whapping me across the head like a kid with an empty cardboard roll of Christmas wrapping.

I feel like I should be walking around with my elbows over my head just to protect my noggin from the next whapping.

But far be it from me to whine about anything.

(Ahem.)

Instead I am going to concentrate on the positives!

I am putting a splenderifous grin on my big old whappitty face!

(Speaking of faces, did you see that guy who got paid $15,000 to have the Mitt Romney campaign logo on his face? What a genius, eh? I betcha he's seen the business end of a Christmas roll once or twice before.)

1. I had a really good cry this morning!

A solid, solitary cry in the privacy of my car, replete with fire engine red eye whites and puffy cheeks. When I was done I repaired the facial damage as best I could then went back into the office where a suspicious colleague asked if I was getting a cold.

"No," I said.

"You look like Rudolph," she said.

Not wanting to go into a big song and dance about bawling in the parking lot, I told her, "I have a drinking problem."

2. I don't have to pay the government $12,000 right away! In fact, I only have to start by paying them $560!

3. As far as I know I am not being charged with tax fraud! WOOT!

Oh, you're probably wondering what I'm talking about. Sigh. I didn't let the Canada Child Benefit (baby bonus) people know that my ex had custody of the children back in 2006. I didn't do it on purpose. I let Revenue Canada know. I filed my income tax correctly. And, to make sure the children's father got every penny he was entitled to, we went to the bank together to set up a bank account in his name, where the baby bonus would be deposited every month.

I thought all was right with the world until I got a letter from the government accusing me of taking money away from my own children, committing tax fraud and demanding all their money back.

I phoned the government and some tool told me it didn't matter that I didn't get the money – it was in my name and that was that. In tears I asked how I was going to pay it back. He said, deadpan, "With a cheque."

Bastard!

My ex phoned the government and told them he had proof that I never got the money, that it went to the rightful place – our children, via his bank account. They refused to talk to him because I was the one in doo-doo, not him. They did suggest that he could apply for the baby bonus in his own name, dating all the way back to 2006.

The thing is – and here's the thing: how much baby bonus you get depends on your income. My income, as a matter of fact (it should have been based on his). For the first while, I had a single income and the benefits going to my ex were substantial – sometimes up to $500 a month. When I moved in with Dave, we had a "combined income" and the baby bonus dropped substantially – about $30 a month.

In total, I will have to repay about $12,000.

My ex, on the other hand, has had a single income for all of those years. He will likely be eligible for far more than $12,000. I figure it could be as much as $30,000!!! You'd think the gov't would have left well enough alone and they'd be $18,000 ahead.

What we're going to do, hopefully, is wait until my ex's cheque arrives. Then I'll pay the government the money they want and my ex will have a big chunk of cashola to put towards the children. Good deal, right? I don't know. I hate being accused of tax fraud. I would never even DREAM of doing that. They can accuse me of being a well intentioned dumbass, of being terrible at paperwork, but, as Richard Nixon once said as he was being taken away in shackles, "I am not a crook."

The first time I called their office, that's how they treated me. I guess that's what happens to a person working in that office when all day long they deal with situations like this.

However, the person I talked to this morning, a lovely woman with an even lovelier French accent, was NICE. I told her as much, as I was bawling into the phone, apologizing for crying and telling her over and over how *sob* nice *sniffle* she *blow nose* is.

She didn't change anything. But at least she heard what I was saying and she was NICE.

There's more whapping but I think you've had enough for now. I know I have.

Until next time, "always look on the bright side of life!" 

Some things in life are bad they can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse
When you're chewin' on life's gristle, don't grumble give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best

And always look on the bright side of life 

Always look on the light side of life

If life seems jolly rotten there's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing
When you're feeling in the dumps don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle, that's the thing

For life is quite absurd and death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow
Forget about your sin, give the audience a grin
Enjoy it it's your last chance anyhow

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of shit when you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke it's true
You'll see it's all a show keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you. 

"Always Look On The Bright Side of Life"
Written by Eric Idle and Monty Python.

Money woes

Dave spent 20 minutes this morning venting about money worries and then another five minutes at the front door trying to get me to cheer up before he went to work.

"I'm not going until you cheer up," he said. I smiled crookedly, fuming on the inside. Really? Let's get all depressed and then be cheery on the way out? He feels guilty, I think. He just bought a used motorcycle, using his credit line. Nah, we couldn't afford it. We were stupid to do it. Then again, life is short. If it's at all possible to do something you love, do it. Another one of my acquaintances is in hospice with terminal cancer, came right out of the blue. She was fine, she found a lump, two months later she's in hospice.

Dave grew up with motorcycles but he hasn't had one for 20 years. When my brother-in-law Don got one, when our friend Richard got one, Dave got all itchy to get one, too. Peer pressure, I guess. Next thing I know he was cruising the online classifieds and before you can say Bob's your uncle (thanks Susan), there was a motorcycle in our garage.

Last night we went for a ride. It was fantastic. Cool evening air blowing in my face. Watching clouds scud across the setting sun. As miles ticked by my frustrations of the day slid behind us like our lengthening shadow. Last night it was worth every penny.

This morning reality has set in yet again. Dave wants to talk about budgeting. Just the word budget makes my teeth ache.

We have our own money, Dave and I, although it's not like he hoards it or anything. We share. But he has his bills, I have mine. Because he makes twice as much money as I do, at least twice, he pays the mortgage, the taxes, the trailer payment and the utilities. (Fecking hydro is enough to choke a goat.) I pay the Jeep payment, groceries, internet and my own credit card. I also give my ex-husband, Doug, a little money here and there for child support. Not a lot – because I don't have a lot – but what I can. He's good that way. We have an agreeable relationship, not like some who only see each other in court as they either demand more money or refuse to give more. Anyway, times are hard for Doug, too. He has asked me for more money and I honestly don't have more money to give. My pay cheque disappears as soon as it lands in my bank account.

I haven't had a substantial raise in pay since I started working there (yes, there has been an occasional cost of living increase, which is so barely noticeable that I'm not 100% sure if I got them or not) and I have just found out I won't be getting one. Ever. Period. I am at the top of my pay scale so it doesn't matter how hard I work, or what I contribute to the company, I will not be compensated for that extra effort financially. I must be content with what I bring home right now. This, in spite of the fact that my responsibilities have increased substantially. Sometimes I think, "why bother?" Just do what you have to do, try and keep your nose clean, and forget about the rest. But that's not who I am. I have to do my best, all the time – that's just the way I roll, baby.

I'm not alone there, that's for sure. There are a lot of other people in the same boat. We're all lucky to even have jobs, I know. But being lucky doesn't help put food on the table.

Meanwhile, the cost of groceries has pretty much doubled in the last six years. Back then $130 paid for food for a family of four for a week. It's rare that I spend less than $230 these days. Gasoline has also jumped. So has hydro. Everything keeps going up and up – everything except my pay cheque.

I'm beginning to think I'm going to have to look around for another job. Or perhaps take a second job. Maybe delivering pizzas or working at Wal-mart. Every time I drive by Domino's and see the sign in the window that says "Now Hiring Drivers" I want to run in there and apply. Maybe me and Dave could do it on Friday nights, together, like a date. Maybe we could do it on his motorcycle, tomato sauce in the saddle bags, the smell of pepperoni in the wind in our hair ...

Dave takes Angus for his first ever motorcycle ride. Gus loved it!