Back In "My Place." Now What?

Yesterday, I left the IRS office having brought myself into “compliance” so that they would lift the levy from my bank account and allow me to continue living off of the money I’ve earned…oh, and so they wouldn’t send me to prison (no, not writing this from North Korea – I’m in North America).

The staff person who worked with me was the same sweet woman who was working with me when I took my big, dramatic stand about two weeks ago.  I have to give her credit for being a very decent human being.  She even showed me the Schedule M for the 2009 and 2010 returns which saved me $800.  I have no complaints against the woman personally or professionally.

She did, however, leave me with some confusing marching orders as I left the office.  She said she had to get her manager’s approval to lift the levy, but to go ahead and call the 800 number on the Notice of Levy I'd received in the mail and have them lift it.  “It should be no problem,” she said.

So, leaving some time for that manager to get back to her and approve everything, I waited until today just after lunch to call and see if the levy could be lifted.  I had a rather strange conversation with a woman on the phone who said the manager still hadn’t approved lifting the levy, but that she could grant a “partial” lifting.  She asked if I had any pressing needs “right now,” so I thought of the most current need, which was that I probably had a couple phone bills past due because they froze the assets in my account.  She asked a few other questions about my current income, and I thought I made it pretty clear that my current income is about half of my current living expenses, and that I need what was in the bank to make up the difference until my tuning business is back on its feet.  She put me on hold, and when she got back to me she said she was releasing $300 from the levy.  I thanked her (sincerely) and said that if that was all she was able to do, I might have to go back to the office and see if they might try to reach that manager soon as Friday was the day my frozen assets would be automatically turned over to the IRS if the levy wasn’t lifted.

I thought as I shared this idea that the lady would give a sort of “That’s probably a good idea considering your circumstances” reply, and we’d be done.  Instead, she started getting upset with me and telling me that the IRS only lifts levies if they feel there are extenuating circumstances.  I explained that I thought next month’s rent and child support payments were pressing enough to warrant it, and that without what I had in the bank being made available, my current income would not be able to meet my normal monthly expenses.  Somehow – somehow, my friends, she couldn’t grasp this and remained upset with me that I would still try to get the entire levy lifted.  We had rather a terse goodbye, and I was rushing back to the IRS office only an hour before I was supposed to pick up my youngest son from school.

I reached the office in good time and approached the lady at the service desk.  I explained that I had been in yesterday getting my ducks in a row to get a levy lifted and that some manager needed to give their approval before the Friday deadline or I’d lose what they had levied.

“Well, there are no managers at this office, sir.  You’ll just have to wait for one of them to call the woman who was helping you yesterday.”

“Yes.  I just thought if I could talk to her again today and see if we might put in another call to that manager.”  A line was beginning to form behind me, and there were others already seated and waiting to speak with an assistant.

“There’s really nothing we can do right now, sir.”

“Well, I need that money to live on and Friday is the deadline.  I can’t lose that money.”

“She put in the call yesterday, so now all we can do is wait.”

“I’m only making half of what I need every month to get by, so I need that money I brought back from my deployment to make up the difference.  I’m trying to rebuild my business.”

“Sir, she put in the call- “

“But I thought maybe another phone call because of the deadline.  You know, the squeaky wheel and all that.  Well, I guess I’ll just have to hold my breath.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that!” she kidded.

I smiled, but I felt sick inside.  Why do I have to fight for money I’ve rightfully earned?  I’ve harmed no one or their property, yet I’m treated like a criminal.  I’m begging for the use of my own money.

“Sir, wait right here a moment,” she said.  She went and got the woman I worked with yesterday, who assured me that as soon as she heard from the manager she would call me.  I thanked her and left.

A couple hours later, she called and gave me the good news as I was going to pick up my other boy.  The entire levy should be lifted some time tomorrow.  It felt good to hear, and I sincerely thanked her for her help.

I still feel grateful, but let’s not get all sentimental, okay?  A runaway slave can feel genuine gratitude for being spared the whip as a “just” punishment for running away, but don’t mistake his or her feeling of gratitude for a wholesale acceptance of the institution of slavery.  The runaway taxpayer is back on the plantation, in his proper place, but he still resents the fact that he continues to live under the same threat of punishment that he just avoided.  A compliant slave with a scar-free back is no less a slave than the rebellious one being whipped.

Two weeks ago I told the IRS to stuff it, and then spent the next three days facing the very real possibilities of what that could mean.  The only other time I’ve felt so oppressed and distraught over the future was when I had visitation with my boys cut to almost nothing overnight for no justifiable reason.  That wasn’t just threatened – that happened.  It sucked the life right out of me.  I remember laying on my couch in a ball – helpless, hopeless, my insides churning with real grief and despair.  It’s a feeling I genuinely wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies.  And so these threats from the IRS – confiscation of property and rights to property, imprisonment – went to work on my mind and heart and caused the same emotional trauma as the assault on my visitation.  The common denominator between the two situations was the lack of necessity.  That’s the part that kills you.  “None of this is necessary, yet it’s happening (or very well could happen).”

So, I’m in “compliance,” the levy is to be lifted, and I’m allowed to carry on almost as if nothing happened.  I’m back in “my place” as a taxpayer.  Where does this leave me from two weeks ago when I “got my rebel on”?

One word: determined.