As if planning and actually moving my stuff 1,600 miles wasn’t hard enough, I am now engaged in bureaucratic warfare with my home state. Soon upon arriving, we were fortunate for both of us to find jobs within a week. My wife, a special ed paraprofessional by trade, was asked to get fingerprinted soon after beginning her new position. However, we both still had our Oklahoma licenses and the cop just cocked his head at us like the RCA dog when we tried to have her fingerprinted. (For those of you too young to remember those commercials, here’s that beloved dog). “I’m sorry, but I can’t use your Oklahoma license because the address is no longer valid. I need a current address.” Sigh… We have no current address since we cannot get into the duplex for another two weeks… More on what we do, right after the jump…
Down to the DMV in Wethersfield we go to transfer our licenses to Connecticut, as if our existing ones weren’t valid here. It was like we’d come from a different country and our existing licenses meant nothing. So, we cleared an afternoon and trekked down to that lovely renovated state prison. (I kid you not… it sure feels like it too!). After several hours, one major screw up (my wife was suddenly a “Male” according to her new license), and two-hundred forty-eight dollars later we had our shiny new licenses, complete with holographic pretty stuff.
Now, I am trying to get the title for my now-deceased stepdad’s motorcycle from the RMV in Massachusetts, but my mother has had a tough time getting them to do anything. They acknowledge that they are sending it, but it is now been three weeks since she’s filed the paperwork. The motorcycle? Yes, it’s sitting at my mechanic’s shop in Somers, but I cannot drive it since it’s not registered. It was towed there from Russell, MA. To get it home, I need to get a temporary registration. Guess what that temp tag needs? A TITLE! So, I guess that my motorcycle is staying right where it is for now, just 10 miles up the road…
To top it off, I got my first mostly-full paycheck from my employer last Friday. I opened it like a hyper, but sleep deprived, kid does on Christmas at 4am in the morning, fully expecting to have sunshine and rainbows emit from within. I tore the paycheck out and immediately my heart sunk. The state income tax withholding was almost DOUBLE my original calculations thanks to some retroactive tax legislation signed by our illustrious governor, Dan Malloy. (More on that here.) I felt like I’d been duped, like Santa had left me a ginormous lump of goal instead that super cool Laser Tag game I’d asked for. I am in the process of talking with a CPA recommended by my someone I know to see if the figure I was “charged” was excessive and what figures need to be there to rectify the situation.
I plan to post a follow up on the withholding tax situation as soon as I talk with my CPA. Never underestimate the power of a good CPA! They’ll find more ways to save you money than you can by yourself, often times. After all, we want to render to Caesar what is Caesar’s, but I don’t like giving him interest-free loans! We’ll see what happens, and you’ll be among those to know.