Today we received a thick booklet in the mail from our local City Council. It is election time. There are Mayors, City Councillors, Community Boards and Health Boards to elect. Everyone is terrifyingly perfect in their one paragraph manifesto, including the current Mayor, and the least said about her the better.
I am tempted to vote for the Worker’s Party candidate for Mayor. Not because I subscribe any longer to rabid Socialism, but because I would love to imagine him ruffling a lot of middle class feathers in Council chambers. What fun! True Blue hubby is not impressed by my mischief making.
In the same lot of mail was a letter from the Tax Department to advise me that I had registered on the wrong tax code. This was particularly the case since I started working on the ski slopes!
Excuse me? I’ve never seen a ski slope, let alone worked on one. I had to wait on the line whilst a tax collector went to “investigate”. It transpires someone had given my tax number by mistake and put me down for a full time job in an obscure resort on the S. Island. Rather difficult to execute whilst studying floristy full time on the N. Island.
I’m impressed. They got onto the problem quickly and corrected it. I wish the debt run up by the current Mayor and council could be resolved as quickly. But perhaps they are on wrong tax codes too?
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