If I had a million dollars

Love that song. But that's not what inspired today's post. I was over at Anna Beth (AB) Chao's design-and-style blog where she posted about cute things "that cost around or over $500." Interesting approach because usually these style articles talk about inexpensive things that are nevertheless very stylish. (Many of them rely heavily on IKEA.)

But it got me to thinking: if money were no object, what would I do with all that moolah?

1. To work or to retire?
   That's the first question, of course. I actually work with some people who are independently wealthy and could sleep in for the rest of their lives, but who choose to come to work each day because they believe in the importance of their contribution and they love what they do.
   
   In my case, I think I would continue to work because I'm enjoying my job.
   
   
2. Move or stay?
   Move. This little place would be nice, in the toney area of Rockliffe Park. Exquisite neighbourhood, close to downtown, beautiful well-maintained older homes. 

   

   Only $1.6 million. Let's get two!

   
   
   Okay, so a mere million dollars would not be enough for that fantasy house. Plus, I do like our location and the easy access to the Ottawa River Parkway. Hmm. Maybe we'd just renovate our current house and add some interesting architectural details to this 1965-era shoebox.
   
   Here's what I'd do to our current house: more attractive roof over our porch; extend garage to a double garage and extend sun room; master suite over the garage and sun room; upgrade kitchen; new windows; flagstone stairs and landscaping in front yard; efficient fireplace insert; French doors in dining room; finish landscaping back yard (including a waterfall and hot tub). You could probably build a whole new house for all the changes I'd make.
   
   
3. Buy experiences, not things.
   Frankly, we have plenty of things in our life. (Just check the crowded basement.) What we have a shortage of is experiences - mostly related to travel. Machu Picchu, Greece, Ireland, Europe, India, Canada. Of course, I'd need the right clothes and shoes for these trips. And I'd want to bring back art or jewelry from all of these locations. And I'd want to bring along family and friends.
   
   
4. Share it.
   I would like to set up a small research endowment. I'm not sure how I would choose what to sponsor ... mental health, autism, cystic fibrosis, diabetes, heart and stroke. 

As I mentally pencil in dollar amounts beside each of these things, it occurs to me that what I could really use is $1 million per annum. Since I don't buy lottery tickets and I haven't published a book that's been optioned by Brad Pitt, I'll have to find some other source of huge income. Seems to me that Kim Kardashian or Paris Hilton could spare some change.

Oh, heck. Maybe I should just go ahead and make my own sex tape. What? You don't think it would be the boon to my career that it was to theirs? I'm sure there's a market for videos of middle-aged-multi-pregnancy women enjoying themselves. Dim lighting and soft focus can do a lot...

Retroactive "Live-blogging" Tax Season 2011

You know what? I'm only half way through writing this and have come to the conclusion that it is boring as shit. Actually, shit is far more interesting (just ask any mother of a newborn). So let me just give you a couple of highlights:

- Steve did my taxes! Yay!
- Then, because I am sick, he took them to the post office and brought me back a chocolate-mousse pastry with a gooey caramel centre!
- If Steve did the numbers correctly, it looks like I'm getting a tax refund from Canada this year!
- Next year, I will have one source of income, in one country. My taxes will be straightforward, and I should be able to do them myself.

- Fin -

One of my very first posts on this here blog was about how much I detest doing my taxes. It's ridiculous, really. This year, I procrastinated worse than any year previously.

My taxes are complicated because I have five sources of income from two countries, I cashed in some RRSPs, sold a house (and made a profit), and ceased owning a rental property. Do you have any idea how many supplementary forms that demands?!

March 5, 2011
Filed my U.S. federal and state tax returns. Since they won't do direct deposit to a Canadian institution, I had them snail-mail it to me.

In the past five years, the amount I've owed Revenue Canada has been roughly equal to what I've received as a refund from Uncle Sam. So waiting for the cheques to arrive gave me a credible excuse to dilly-dally.

All my tax files remain neatly stacked in a green folder on the coffee table.

April 1, 2011
Cheques arrive.

All my tax files remain neatly stacked in a green folder on the coffee table.

April 8, 2011
Cheques are deposited, but require a two-week holding period. Yay! More reasons to procrastinate.

At some point, Steve took pity on me and bravely offered to do my taxes for me this year, which saves me great sums of cash. Hiring a professional to do just the rental property part cost me close to $500 last year. (Maybe Steve just got tired of seeing all my tax files neatly stacked in a green folder on the coffee table.)

April 23, 2011
Steve declares, "We should do your taxes this weekend." I proceed to place the newspaper sections erratically over all my tax files which remain neatly stacked in a green folder on the coffee table.

April 30, 2011
Tax Day. [Note: I learned after the fact that taxes are actually due on midnight Monday, May 2, but I'm heading out of town on the 1st, so that extension is kind of moot.]

- 2:00 p.m.
Open the green folder and realize that my Canadian T4 is not in there. I must have left it at work. 
Get a paper cut.

- 3:00 p.m.
Drive to work. Half way there, get a call from Steve saying that he has found the errant T4. Return home.

Tax anxiety

Ever since I started working outside the home, I've had real anxiety attacks around doing my taxes. I'm talking about heart-pounding, lump-in-the-throat, cold-sweat anxiety.

Partly, this is because when I first started working I was a self-employed contractor, so I didn't have a standard W-2 or T4 upon which to base my income and deductions. I had to pull together my shoebox full of receipts and records, hand it all over to a tax professional and pray to God that everything was on the up & up.

My taxes are still complicated because I file in both the United States and Canada. Double the pleasure, double the fun. And, much as I'm proud of Canada's social system, especially health and education, I am not delighted when my entire U.S. tax return -- and we're talking almost $3,000 -- gets syphoned into the Canadian revenue system. And then some. Sigh. It sure would be nice to just spend some of that "found money."

Instead, I have to scan and mail all my U.S. information to an accountant in Ottawa who charges a hefty sum to calculate how much I owe the Queen.

So, although I get to stay in my wrinkly pyjamas and fluffy slippers today, it doesn't feel much like a day off because I'm doing my taxes. I just keep reminding myself how good I'll feel when the whole thing is filed and done with. Kind of like that joke about banging your head against a wall: why do it? Because it feels so good when you stop.

Done with my break; back to my head-banging now.