Discretion being the better part of valor (not to mention hubris and arrogance and snooty self-importance), youíd think a person as humble as I am (he said, humbly) wouldnít have to be reined in by circumstance. But I might have picked a fight with the U.S. government today, if I hadnít run into a bit of good luck. Discretion imposed is better than no discretion at all.
The Social Security Administration had the nerve to tell me I hadnít filed W-2 forms for the kennel employees — for 2004!. Not only did I know Iíd done it, I knew I had copies of the forms to prove it. All I had to do was find them. I canít tell you how much I wanted to throw them in the governmentís face (assuming it has one) and wave them in front of the governmentís eyes. Tell me I didnít do my job. Ha!
Only I couldnít find the forms. I looked everywhere I could think of that I might have filed them, including all the wrong places. (Well, all the places I looked were wrong places, right up until I found them.)
I felt so vindicated. I had the nasty letter composed in my head, until I looked at the forms I was about to send to the government. I had used the wrong employer identification number on them. No wonder the government couldnít find a record of my filing them. I quickly revised the letter down to a brief apology, with explanation. Luckily, I discovered the error before I woke up the sleeping tiger. Nobody wants the folks in Washington snarling at them with claws out and fangs bared.