the telephone automaton
Yes, I haven’t gone to bed yet. I am taking care of a couple last things, then I will float away into the dreamworld followed by being violently woken by the chastise of reality and the Monday thru Friday.
I called the IRS to see what was up with my taxes, and as it turns out, it was my fault. I had been making payments incorrectly. First off, I should have just paid them in full with the correct payment voucher so I wouldn’t be in this mess. Second, I learned that the estimated tax payment plan is for the following year, so I had to pay them in full regardless.
At a couple minutes after seven, I dialed their 800 number and ran around the maze of their automated system. I finally found the exit into the Ã¼ber long wait accompanied by classical music and the occasional intelligent-sounding computerized female voice reminding me that Uncle Sam’s phone slaves are busy assisting other “customers.”
After what must have been at least fifteen minutes, probably closer to twenty, I was patched through to a “Mrs. Miller” as she identified herself and gave me a six-digit ID number of her own. I wasn’t ready to jot that number down nor did I feel the relevance of knowing the number was going to do me any good in the future. I think the number was simply telling me that the lady was a legitimate representative giving me the comfort of knowing. I’m sure they also give identify themselves in that manner for those angry mongrels that have the habit of escalating phone conversations to “Let me talk to your manager!”
Anyway, she spoke with the kind, comforting voice of an old lady. She did an excellent job of letting me know that I messed up and fixed everything up to send me on my way.
With all that said, everything is really okay this time ‘cept the fact that I am in debt to sleep and shouldn’t be telling you all this and snoozing instead. Peace out, homies.