Insomnia and Predatory Loans
Mar. 22nd, 2023 10:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraAnother one of those nights where I woke up around 1 am and could not go back to sleep for anything.
Tried listening to Mozart’s sleepiest music.
Kept trying to track the clarinet notes through the violin schmaltz.
Triedlookfar’s surefire soporific—an endless podcast on British history. Chose absolutely the most boring episode, the one about the Spanish Armada.
Kept thinking, Wow! So those Spanish cannons were so unwieldy that they could only produce one and a half cannon blasts a day?
Took a really, really hot shower.
Nada. Niente.
Four hours sleep is not enough for me to function coherently. So, I called in sick to TaxBwana and now am besieged with deep feelings of guilt.
Like WTF?
It’s a volunteer gig!
It’s so weird. In my younger days, I had absolutely no conscience about such maneuvers at all and routinely used up my sick leave the moment I accrued it. In nursing school, I had a nursing instructor say to me once in a confused voice, You seem to have more grandparents than other people, Patrizia, the fifth time I announced I would not be coming into clinicals because my grandmother had died.
But in my old age, I seem to have developed an overabundance of conscience.
Perhaps the two extremes will cancel each other out so that when I’m standing there in heaven in front of that old gent in the long, ripply nightgown, the records will tally the minimum amount of conscience necessary to avoid burning in Hell for all eternity.
Yesterday’s Interesting TaxBwana Client was a woman who borrowed $2,000 from a New York State pension fund 30-some-odd years ago and either forgot to pay it back or had her requests to pay it back ignored. (The woman was not the world’s most reliable narrator, and the story changed a bit with each retelling.)
Apparently, the New York State pension fund charges compound interest rates that are higher than the average predatory PayDay loan because when she finally reached retirement age, they sent her a 1099-R indicating they had disbursed $43,000 to her—upon which, of course, she had paid not federal income tax, so she ended up owing the Feds around $10,000.
She went into shock.
Good thing her daughter—a level-headed young woman who clearly loved her mother—was with her.
I didn’t actually do her return; I QAed it.
And all the TaxBwanas who were not involved with clients gathered round to loan her moral support because we could hardly believe the implacability and apparent heartlessness of the New York State pension fund.
###
“Understand we are not having this conversation,” I said. “Because we are not supposed to offer tax advice.
“But the first thing you do is go to the New York State pension fund office to determine whether this 1099-R form is actually correct. The people who fill these forms out do make mistakes from time to time. And if this is a mistake, then we’ll amend your 1040. Also, you want them to give you the complete file on this matter.
“If that doesn’t work out, you get in touch with the IRS. See what kind of payment plan you can arrange with them. Maybe an offer in compromise.
“Then you talk to a labor lawyer because this whole situation just seems nuts. But first, check in with a legal aid clinic to see if you have any kind of a case. There are no legal aid clinics in Poughkeepsie, but there should be some in NYC. They’d be run by the NYU and Columbia law schools. If they think something weird is going on, talk to a labor lawyer. You might even have grounds for some sort of lawsuit ‘cause this just seems so weird and unjust. In that event, the attorney would take your case on contingency.”
###
At this point, the daughter broke in, “Look, Mom—they’ve arrested Trump!”
And there Trump was on her phone screen. Smirking and being led off in handcuffs from a Taco Bell.
Of course, it was a Deep Fake punk.
But it did break the tension.
We all laughed hysterically—even the woman who owed the IRS $10,000.
And Doug—our TaxBwana site coordinator whom I like a lot—said, “You have a very smart daughter."
###
Also, the Turkish kid whose taxes I labored over day before yesterday came in to sign some forms and bring me a Turkish candy bar:
Tried listening to Mozart’s sleepiest music.
Kept trying to track the clarinet notes through the violin schmaltz.
Tried
lookfar’s surefire soporific—an endless podcast on British history. Chose absolutely the most boring episode, the one about the Spanish Armada.Kept thinking, Wow! So those Spanish cannons were so unwieldy that they could only produce one and a half cannon blasts a day?
Took a really, really hot shower.
Nada. Niente.
Four hours sleep is not enough for me to function coherently. So, I called in sick to TaxBwana and now am besieged with deep feelings of guilt.
Like WTF?
It’s a volunteer gig!
It’s so weird. In my younger days, I had absolutely no conscience about such maneuvers at all and routinely used up my sick leave the moment I accrued it. In nursing school, I had a nursing instructor say to me once in a confused voice, You seem to have more grandparents than other people, Patrizia, the fifth time I announced I would not be coming into clinicals because my grandmother had died.
But in my old age, I seem to have developed an overabundance of conscience.
Perhaps the two extremes will cancel each other out so that when I’m standing there in heaven in front of that old gent in the long, ripply nightgown, the records will tally the minimum amount of conscience necessary to avoid burning in Hell for all eternity.
Yesterday’s Interesting TaxBwana Client was a woman who borrowed $2,000 from a New York State pension fund 30-some-odd years ago and either forgot to pay it back or had her requests to pay it back ignored. (The woman was not the world’s most reliable narrator, and the story changed a bit with each retelling.)
Apparently, the New York State pension fund charges compound interest rates that are higher than the average predatory PayDay loan because when she finally reached retirement age, they sent her a 1099-R indicating they had disbursed $43,000 to her—upon which, of course, she had paid not federal income tax, so she ended up owing the Feds around $10,000.
She went into shock.
Good thing her daughter—a level-headed young woman who clearly loved her mother—was with her.
I didn’t actually do her return; I QAed it.
And all the TaxBwanas who were not involved with clients gathered round to loan her moral support because we could hardly believe the implacability and apparent heartlessness of the New York State pension fund.
###
“Understand we are not having this conversation,” I said. “Because we are not supposed to offer tax advice.
“But the first thing you do is go to the New York State pension fund office to determine whether this 1099-R form is actually correct. The people who fill these forms out do make mistakes from time to time. And if this is a mistake, then we’ll amend your 1040. Also, you want them to give you the complete file on this matter.
“If that doesn’t work out, you get in touch with the IRS. See what kind of payment plan you can arrange with them. Maybe an offer in compromise.
“Then you talk to a labor lawyer because this whole situation just seems nuts. But first, check in with a legal aid clinic to see if you have any kind of a case. There are no legal aid clinics in Poughkeepsie, but there should be some in NYC. They’d be run by the NYU and Columbia law schools. If they think something weird is going on, talk to a labor lawyer. You might even have grounds for some sort of lawsuit ‘cause this just seems so weird and unjust. In that event, the attorney would take your case on contingency.”
###
At this point, the daughter broke in, “Look, Mom—they’ve arrested Trump!”
And there Trump was on her phone screen. Smirking and being led off in handcuffs from a Taco Bell.
Of course, it was a Deep Fake punk.
But it did break the tension.
We all laughed hysterically—even the woman who owed the IRS $10,000.
And Doug—our TaxBwana site coordinator whom I like a lot—said, “You have a very smart daughter."
###
Also, the Turkish kid whose taxes I labored over day before yesterday came in to sign some forms and bring me a Turkish candy bar:
