Canada Revenue Agency is scary

I do my own taxes. I've always done my own taxes. My theory is that the process of sending money to the government shouldn't be something that is so difficult that it requires some sort of expertise to accomplish it. It should be a simple addition/subtraction (and sometimes multiplication) process that anyone can do.

I live in a fantasy world.

This is the second time in the last three years that I've claimed my expenses on the wrong line, thus causing the CRA to send me a Notice of Preassessment requesting receipts and documents proving my legal expense with regards to child support.

Um. I don't have a child. I think I messed up.

I can't even begin to describe how scary a Notice of Preassessment is. Because I do my own taxes, I'm always assuming that somehow I've managed to do something terribly illegal, and that I'm going to be frogmarched out of my home by nebbishy accountants with no sense of humour. This is where I begin to understand that the fee you pay an accountant may be worth it - just on the basis of "peace of mind". I still resent the necessity that the government has created, but at some point I'll have to give in.

It's like when I refused to have a bank account. For a short period of time, after being disgusted with the fees I was charged by my bank, I started dealing with cash only. I cashed my paycheques at a MoneyMart, and kept the cash at home. I ended up far ahead of the game doing this, and I really enjoyed the freedom. But, getting a job a financial institution put the kibosh on that. They require you to have a bank account to auto-deposit your pay. An account at their institution. The upside is that it is fee-free, but I still don't like it.

I called to check on my Tax Return today, it's been a month since I've sent the corrected forms to them. Just the act of being on hold with the CRA is intimidating. I'm afraid of what they're going to tell me, the butterflies in my stomach are playing Aussie Rules Football, and for some reason, they've got the scariest hold music in the world. We're talking, haunted house, horror movie scary. By the time I get a person on the phone, I'm so glad to be away from the creepy music that any news will be good news. The very nice girl I talked to told me that according to my file, they've started a letter of response, and it should go out this week. Again, visions of shackles, and government auctions. I've done nothing wrong, I have receipts for all my expenses, I've claimed every last dime I've earned, but still, the guilt kicks in right away.

If I were a skunk, guilt would be my stink.

The very nice girl tells me that if I sent them a corrected form, and a letter of response, they're required to send me a letter back saying they've received my letter, and "here's what we've decided". Oh. Phew. So the letter's a good thing. My return is moving forward. After the letter, comes the cheque. Assuming there's a cheque on it's way, and not some jackbooted pencil pushers.

Nerds with power are the stuff of nightmares. Next year, I'm hiring my own nerd. Fight nerd with nerd, I always say. They can sit down with their six sided dice and duke it out, I'm done with it.