Today I wrote four checks to the government (two federal, two state–I suppose I should be lucky that we don’t have local taxes here, too). Now that I am self-employed, tax time has lost quite a bit of drama compared to years past, when it was either, “I can’t believe how much I owe” or “…am owed!” Now I have to pay taxes on a quarterly basis, and my accountant plans it carefully so that I always do owe a big chunk come tax time, because why let Uncle Sam have any of your money a minute earlier than necessary, as he says? But he also completes all the documentation well in advance and files it electronically, so come April 15 all I have to do is write a few checks and put them in the mail. (In addition to paying taxes for the previous year, I have to pay my first quarterly tax payment on April 15, hence the four checks.)

I don’t know why the government can’t accept an electronic check, since the rest of the transaction is done on-line, but my accountant tells me to write a paper check, so that’s what I do. It’s quaintly anachronistic, this business of filling out the date and payee, recording the dollar amount in numerals and words (”Seventeen kajillion fifty million and 00/00 dollars”), and signing the check. I can’t believe this slip of paper means anything; it seems inherently forgeable.

Paradoxically, I always pause for a moment before licking the envelope, wary about transferring my DNA-laden saliva to the container that is going to the government. Who knows how this bit of evidence could be used against me? It’s a strangely high-tech coda to a low-tech process.

I suppose I could invest in some self-adhesive envelopes, but I don’t know if I want to waste the money as I’m betting that snail mail will pass out of existence before I could use up a whole box. Husband and I placed bets the other day on when the US Postal Service would stop offering regular daily service; I thought within 30 years, he thought within 50. Any takers?