The other Rachel, tax panic and outer monologue

Dear Rachel,

There’s now a ‘Dear Rachel’ in the other paper in town. What the sheet? They either don’t pay attention to the back half of the Tele (which is the sexy half anyway, if you’re into that sort of thing) or else it’s a direct shot across your bow. Not even across it: through it. Don’t let the bastards take you down! How long have you been doing this, Rachel, and how are you going to defend your honor and your name?

– Team Rachel

Dear Team Me,

I just looked, and now I feel archaic: I’ve been doing this for coming up on 10 years. That means I have as many seasons as (and more episodes than) “Friends.” That means I have more years in office than any president since FDR. And I’ll have more years in office than any president in my lifetime, because I’ll be damned if I step down and let some other Rachel be the longest-running active advice columnist in town. Female solidarity – but this far and no further.

– The OG, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I’m finally going to hire someone to do my taxes this year. It’s always been easy enough –just fill in some boxes and I’m good to go. But now there’s extra forms in the mail besides my W-2, and I started panicking. This is the wise course of action, right? Trust a professional? Or am I just throwing money down the pipe when it’s something that me and a six-pack of Ska could handle in an afternoon?

– Grown-Ass Man

Dear Big Boy,

A single W-2? The rest of us are cobbling it together with jobs that all fall under certain reporting thresholds – not on purpose, but because that’s just the only choice we have. I mean, it’s not the ONLY choice we have. We also have the choice to apply for two or three real jobs at a time. But we’re not doing that. Not when we have the chance to start a spinoff advice column where we pretend we’re going to answer people’s questions seriously. As if. Can you imagine?

– Accepting cash, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

I live with a self-narrator. My roommate walks around all day, talking through his inner monologues: “Hm, I think I’ll carry the groceries in first when I get home, because I’m getting milk, and then I’ll carry in the office supplies. Do you think the restaurant will be open by then? I’ll check.” It’s harmless, but also distracting and low-key aggravating. I asked him to please talk less, and his feelings got hurt. He’s oblivious. What can I do?

– No Peace, No Quiet

Dear Sounding Board,

Ooh, that sounds like a serious question. Do you want a serious answer? Pavlovian training. Interrupt every non-essential sentence with a bell. Eventually, instead of talking, he’ll start salivating. I think that’s how that works? Ask me over at the Herald, and I’ll do some research before I answer.

– La la la la la, Rachel