I Did My Taxes

I’m not sure why, but I just really wanted everyone know that I did my taxes.

Participating in government is kind of like when you want your teacher to know that you did your homework, because if you didn’t and your teacher finds out about it you’re going to get a bad grade. Bad grades cause problems. If you’re in college you’ll have financial aid issues; if you’re in K-12 you’ll get grounded and have no television or video games; if you don’t file your taxes you won’t get a tax return, and if you don’t vote, it’s likely that someone else will vote and the candidate that you want to win the election won’t win while you’re just at home writing a blog and watching for the results on Twitter, hoping to God that people aren’t seriously dumb enough to vote for Donald Trump.

Edit: Turns out, Kentucky is. I can’t help but feel like it’s because I didn’t participate, even though I have no intention of voting for any of the republican candidates anyway. The Democratic Primary isn’t until May. There’s still time for me to procrastinate, like an undergrad with classes all back-to-back the day before every professor decides to have a mid-term on the same date.

In class, I don’t get up from my righty-desk even though I’m a lefty, and shout that I did my homework over my professor’s lecture. I try to let my professor know that I did the assigned tasks by actively participating in that day’s discussion, or at the very least, I put my hand on my chin and nod along, make a few faces, laugh at something that’s funny. It’s actually kind of easy to bullshit my way through the times I didn’t read Kate Chopin’s “The Awakening” in its entirety after already reading “Dèsirèe’s Baby” and “The Story of An Hour” by just doing a quick glance in the book while my professor is lecturing about naturalism. I can just use the sentence “She had forced herself to eat most of her soup, and now she was picking the flaky bits of a court bouillon with her fork” (Chopin 594) to show how it revealed that she was uncomfortable and how that was leading to her sexual awakening. Easy peasy.

I suppose I bullshit my way through politics in a similar fashion. I participate in the government the same way I participated in American Idol, or The X-Factor. I let the judges who (usually) know what the fuck they’re talking about pick the nominees first and then I vote once the live shows start. My issues with participating too early tend to fall under the dilemma of having to do all the paperwork without really even knowing who I want. This early, since I’m not a political journalist or even a pundit, I just usually only know who I don’t want. I only want the credit for participating, which is easiest to achieve by telling everyone that I did my homework. I mean my taxes. This got weird.

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I told you all of that to tell you this. I’ve been negligent of the registration process this year. I thought I’d missed some all-important deadline to vote in the democratic primary, but according to my state’s website, I haven’t. Probably. So I don’t have to worry about a damn thing until this summer. I feel kind of bad about not doing my homework, but I did do my taxes. You’re welcome, society.

Chopin, Kate. “The Awakening”. Norton Anthology of American Literature. Vol. C Eighth Edition. Ed. Nina Bayum and Robert S. Levine. New York: WW Norton Company, 2012. 561-563. Print.

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