I filed weeks ago, determined not to engage in the last minute rush to a still open post office tonight. Surprisingly, after years of writing checks to the government, I was due a refund. Oh, joy! Even though the money was rightfully mine, I felt as though I was getting a bonus. An unexpected perk.
Every day since filing I’ve checked my mailbox, anticipating those two envelopes, one from the state, one from the federal government. Every day I’m disappointed. When will they arrive?
While balancing my checkbook, I noticed two stray deposits. What is this? Ahhhhh. My tax refund, stealthily deposited directly into my account. With no announcement, no fanfare, no acknowledgement from me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for the refund. But it’s just not as sweet. Not as satisfying as receiving that stiff piece of paper, scribbling a signature on the back, and proudly presenting it to a teller.