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Married Filing Separately
Mar. 14th, 2024 11:24 amMusta have been National Married Filing Separately week.
I swear to God!
Maybe two-thirds of the returns I filed this week were from women feebly attempting to shield their few assets from the greedy & predatory and/or hopelessly irresponsible jerks they said “I do” to in what one can only assume was a moment of hormonal overdrive so intense they didn’t bother to look at the resume.
Reader, I’ve been there.
###
I don’t think I’ve ever run across a single male who was Married Filing Separately.
What do these men do?
Are they really all so feckless that they don’t bother to file tax returns?
###
Maura (not her real name) was still living with her husband. “He sleeps on the couch,” she assured me, not meeting my eyes.
Like I care where her husband sleeps.
“So you’re on amicable terms?” I asked.
“I suppose.”
“The reason I’m asking is because ‘Married Filing Separately’ is possibly the least advantageous filing status you can choose. Your standard deduction is lower, and you’re not eligible for refundable credits like earned income credit, so…” I shrugged.
Maura had lasted exactly three weeks on the only W2-generating job she’d held in 2023, but with three kids, that would have been enough to qualify her for EIC.
I was tentatively feeling her out about Married Filing Jointly in that new subtle way I’ve learned from reading and watching Shogun!
But Maura mistook this for actual interest in her life, and began telling me all about it. The husband hated her teenage kids! Was always insulting them, putting them down.
But she married him anyway.
And then he nagged her into having a kid with him, and that baby was now two years old, and then the older teenager got into drugs and had to go into rehab, and the younger teenager, a girl, began running away from home every other week, and the County of Ulster laid Maura off—
“Can you believe it?” Maura laughed bitterly. “I was a clerk for their family court.”
Wait! I thought. Babies come from nagging? Who knew?
###
Sugawara Yukako (not her real name) is a visiting professor at Bard College who has a social security number for employment purposes only. Last year, she’d had her taxes done by one of those Big Name Tax Preparation Firms (that charge you—no shit—$150 a form.)
The thing is that when you’re Married Filing Separately, you must supply the IRS with your spouse’s social security number.
The husband doesn’t have a social security number since he is merely accompanying Sugawara on her sojourn in the U.S.
They had two kids. One was in college, so he, too, had a temporary social security number; the other one didn’t.
The accountant at the Big Name Tax Preparation Firm had solved this dilemma by making up social security numbers.
No shit! He or she just added two numbers to Sugawara Yukako’s birthday. And that became the husband’s social security number.
The kid without a SS#’s social security number was magicked from the other kid’s birthday.
My mouth literally fell open when I saw this.
It took me exactly 10 minutes of research to ascertain that Non Residents working in the U.S. are subject to their own arcane set of tax codes and must file their own arcane tax form, something called a 1040NR.
Ten minutes of research!
Which, apparently, D.Q. Lego does not know how to do.
Moral of the story: Never assume that Big Name Tax Preparation Firms are the solution to any of your tax problemos.
###
Maybe I should just stop delivering the spiel about how Married Filing Separately is the worst possible tax filing status.
Because when I began the spiel with LaHavnisha Connolly (NHRN), she glared at me. “He on the inside—”
I must have looked confused.
“Locked up! Behind bars. However you folk likes to say it.”
###
Anyway, it was absolutely gorgeous when I finally got done at Tivoli yesterday.
So, I trotted off to Montgomery Place, a Southern-style plantation once owned by the e-eeeeeee-vil Livingstons (of course!) and one of the reasons why Dutchess County refused to vote to end slavery way back when.
I spied my first crocuses!
Spring is really here! Though it will take another six weeks or so for leaves to begin appearing on the trees:
The place was utterly deserted.
So, I got to sit by my favorite frog pond for 15 minutes and dream.
Today is equally gorgeous, so shortly I will toddle out to the garden to see how winter treated it.
My garlic should be sprouting!
And then I’ll tromp, and then I’ll—ugh!—tackle the To Do List.
Which is now three post-its long.
I swear to God!
Maybe two-thirds of the returns I filed this week were from women feebly attempting to shield their few assets from the greedy & predatory and/or hopelessly irresponsible jerks they said “I do” to in what one can only assume was a moment of hormonal overdrive so intense they didn’t bother to look at the resume.
Reader, I’ve been there.
###
I don’t think I’ve ever run across a single male who was Married Filing Separately.
What do these men do?
Are they really all so feckless that they don’t bother to file tax returns?
###
Maura (not her real name) was still living with her husband. “He sleeps on the couch,” she assured me, not meeting my eyes.
Like I care where her husband sleeps.
“So you’re on amicable terms?” I asked.
“I suppose.”
“The reason I’m asking is because ‘Married Filing Separately’ is possibly the least advantageous filing status you can choose. Your standard deduction is lower, and you’re not eligible for refundable credits like earned income credit, so…” I shrugged.
Maura had lasted exactly three weeks on the only W2-generating job she’d held in 2023, but with three kids, that would have been enough to qualify her for EIC.
I was tentatively feeling her out about Married Filing Jointly in that new subtle way I’ve learned from reading and watching Shogun!
But Maura mistook this for actual interest in her life, and began telling me all about it. The husband hated her teenage kids! Was always insulting them, putting them down.
But she married him anyway.
And then he nagged her into having a kid with him, and that baby was now two years old, and then the older teenager got into drugs and had to go into rehab, and the younger teenager, a girl, began running away from home every other week, and the County of Ulster laid Maura off—
“Can you believe it?” Maura laughed bitterly. “I was a clerk for their family court.”
Wait! I thought. Babies come from nagging? Who knew?
###
Sugawara Yukako (not her real name) is a visiting professor at Bard College who has a social security number for employment purposes only. Last year, she’d had her taxes done by one of those Big Name Tax Preparation Firms (that charge you—no shit—$150 a form.)
The thing is that when you’re Married Filing Separately, you must supply the IRS with your spouse’s social security number.
The husband doesn’t have a social security number since he is merely accompanying Sugawara on her sojourn in the U.S.
They had two kids. One was in college, so he, too, had a temporary social security number; the other one didn’t.
The accountant at the Big Name Tax Preparation Firm had solved this dilemma by making up social security numbers.
No shit! He or she just added two numbers to Sugawara Yukako’s birthday. And that became the husband’s social security number.
The kid without a SS#’s social security number was magicked from the other kid’s birthday.
My mouth literally fell open when I saw this.
It took me exactly 10 minutes of research to ascertain that Non Residents working in the U.S. are subject to their own arcane set of tax codes and must file their own arcane tax form, something called a 1040NR.
Ten minutes of research!
Which, apparently, D.Q. Lego does not know how to do.
Moral of the story: Never assume that Big Name Tax Preparation Firms are the solution to any of your tax problemos.
###
Maybe I should just stop delivering the spiel about how Married Filing Separately is the worst possible tax filing status.
Because when I began the spiel with LaHavnisha Connolly (NHRN), she glared at me. “He on the inside—”
I must have looked confused.
“Locked up! Behind bars. However you folk likes to say it.”
###
Anyway, it was absolutely gorgeous when I finally got done at Tivoli yesterday.
So, I trotted off to Montgomery Place, a Southern-style plantation once owned by the e-eeeeeee-vil Livingstons (of course!) and one of the reasons why Dutchess County refused to vote to end slavery way back when.
I spied my first crocuses!
Spring is really here! Though it will take another six weeks or so for leaves to begin appearing on the trees:
The place was utterly deserted.
So, I got to sit by my favorite frog pond for 15 minutes and dream.
Today is equally gorgeous, so shortly I will toddle out to the garden to see how winter treated it.
My garlic should be sprouting!
And then I’ll tromp, and then I’ll—ugh!—tackle the To Do List.
Which is now three post-its long.
