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It's always a good thing when the universe conspires to keep you humble. And by 'you,' of course, I mean 'me.'

Last night I finally sat down to do my taxes. Not the final possible hour, but pretty damn close. The IRS has gotten rid of telefile this year, which is the only way I've ever done my taxes before (tells you something about my financial portfolio, another good way the universe helps me stay humble). They have replaced it this year with free online filing. This is achieved through third party companies that work in partnership with the IRS (i.e., they make a deal with the devil) and file your taxes for you for free. So I choose the first company on the list, go through the rigamarole, answer all the questions, and click the "figure out my taxes" button. It kicks back that I am owed almost 6 grand (about $800 more than my total income tax paid last year).

So what went wrong? I'm still wondering about that. Now I have one day less to figure it out and get everything filed so I can collect my actual return... of course, there's that small part of me that wanted to push that button and see what happened. How quickly would the red lights flash and the claxons blare at IRS central were I to file that return? But the obvious issue with that idea is... if I'm too feeble to complete a free online tax filing service, with a single W2, no assets, and no dependents... why would I think I could outsmart the IRS? Like I said, it's good when the universe decides your ass is outgrowing your britches. I obviously needed to get knocked down a peg.

If only that were the end of the story...

Because today I went to dig out my sandles for the first time this year. I was going to walk down the street to the mailbox and return some Netflix movies (Godfather and Anchorman) and, since it was nice and sunny out, I decided it was time to grab the tevas from the back of the closet.

Okay, to complete this story effectively I actually need to give a little backstory here. At the beginning of the year, early January I guess, I lost a pair of boots. Yes, that's right... LOST BOOTS. I have always been a loser of things...sunglasses, jackets, books, hats... but this was the first time I'd ever lost something that you would almost invariably need to have with you when you left the place you brought them to. You'd have to get prrrretty wasted to wake up in the morning and say to yourself, "ah hell... where did I leave my shoes last night?" I was never that wasted so I didn't know what had happened. I checked through my entire apartment (it's a one bedroom, not a lot of places for a boot to hide), then I checked at my gym on the assumption that it was really the only place I could leave a pair of shoes (since it's the only place to which I bring a change of shoes). No luck. I called my friends who I had stayed with for a weekend at the end of December. No shoes for you. I gave up the ghost.

A quick aside to this aside: I LOVED those boots. Super comfy John Fluevogs that they don't even make anymore. The best pair of shoes I've ever owned, the perfect mix of style and utility... I was bummed to lose those boots.

Here, I'll show you:

They were this style:

And this color:

See how cool that is? The seamless front, but in the soft warm brown? Yeah, that's right... I owned the last pair of "Brown Angelic Chelseas" in the known world... and I lost them.

The worst part is that they were the warmest, most durable, most waterproof pair of shoes that I owned. And I walk two miles to and from work almost every day. I spent an entire Seattle winter wearing tennis shoes whenver I went outside.

I think you see where this is going. I dug out my sandles and found my boots. I SWEAR TO GOD I looked in the exact place I found them a dozen times when I first lost them. I access that particular cubbyhole in my closet literally daily.

It was just such a shock when I found them... feeling around in the back of the closet, rest my hand on one of them... the slow realization spreading over my body like sunshine... I remember the episode of The Tick (the old animated series, not the live-action one a few years back, starring Puddy from Seinfeld... seriously, when they gonna release the cartoon version on DVD? Sorry, too many asides to asides to asides here, I know) that featured the supervillian The Ottoman Empress... she controlled furniture, and was amassing an army of couches and tables to take over the world... the way she neutralized the Tick was to trap him in The World's Most Comfortable Chair, so he didn't care about fighting crime anymore... anyways, the point is, when this guy who had sat in the World's Most Comfortable Chair for something like 20 years but escaped gets caught in the chair again, he says, "Hello... old friend..." Which is a line I still use fairly often. Usually just in my own head, but whatever. It amuses me. And I said it to my boots today.

The funny thing is, I KNEW I was going to find those boots again. I went shopping several times determined to buy a new pair, but never found any that worked save one pair of Merrells... and they didn't have my size in any store in Western Washington. So I just had a feeling the Brown Angelic Chelseas would come back to me somehow. Little did I know, they never even left me.

So yeah, back-to-back days that the universe kicks me down a notch. How's that for a double-play? "Boy can't even do his taxes... then loses a pair of boots in his own 400 square foot apartment for four months." But honestly? I'm so stoked to get those boots back I don't care. They're tall boots, too, so even though I feel stupid I also feel taller than I have in months, which pretty much evens it all out. Oh yes, that's right. I'm wearing the boots right now. Surprised?