Story of the Day 9/ 24/ 2012 #2

I am not going to jail!

I feel like throwing off my clothes and running out into the yard and yelling "Yahoo!!!"
Except that it is not very warm outside. In fact, there was some frost on the cars, this morning.
And, I don't feel like going to jail.

I also need to find some nice, flowery note cards so that I can write a letter, a thank you note, really, to my lawyer, and to the lady at the IRS.
The one who decided that, yes, I was a victim of identity theft, and , yes, most probably from someone who worked for or still works for my previous employer and used my personal identification to get checks from my previous employer for which I then owed taxes...
and which I didn't' find out about until the taxes were already quite overdue and penalties and late fees and interest and the cost of pink soap were all piling up...
because that nasty person who stole my identity to get money from the agency also had my mailing address changed, so the 1099 went somewhere else....and I never saw it, or knew about it.
Until that letter from the IRS.
About the overdue taxes, and penalties and late fees and interest and .......

So I need to write to the lady from the IRS, who acknowledged that I didn't' actually get that almost $10,000 in question, in the first place.
And to my lawyer.

Because through all of this, of course, I had to deal with my ex-employer.
The one who insisted they had mailed me those checks.
And insisted that they had sent me the 1099 from that year....even if to a different address.
And then refused to send me a corrected 1099, when it was finally brought to their attention the the checks they were sure they sent to me...went somewhere else.
After I called, and called, and wrote and wrote.

And then, in desperation, harassed my lawyer, the same one who had to file a lawsuit to get my back pay from this same noble agency,
which, in case you were not already sure by now, is part of the government.

And so my lawyer got a turn at calling and being ignored, and writing, and being ignored, and writing again, and being ignored....
and, finally, writing and getting an answer.

After all of this, perhaps you can understand my desire to throw off my clothes and run outside yelling and scattering rose petals.

But, also, my restraint in not doing it, since I don't' want to jeopardize my un-jailed state.