Dealing With Snow Can Be A Taxing Business

While never the most patient of people, today has proved to be particularly taxing in so many ways, including literally.

I woke well before dawn as is my typical morning routine and a blanket of white was there to greet me.

The days when a heavy snowfall delighted me are well and truly past (despite having lingered longer than they should have done, to be honest, with the winter wonderland atmosphere still at least a little bit magical…maybe a lot, I am realizing as I type…)

Anyway, I knew today would not afford many opportunities to be physically active. I was right. Normally, when it snows I try to get out and shovel snow to help other residents, the large bulk of whom are well into their senior years.

But my hand was badly affected by a bone infection last year, leaving the middle finger disfigured and greatly reduced of power and gripping strength.

It would still be possible to shovel under normal circumstances, but I am still getting over my broken leg, so wavered over whether it would be prudent to get outside and risk slipping in the snow.

Ultimately, I was ultimately swayed by resentment. I’d spent nearly all day yesterday preparing a report to submit to the neighborhood’s body corporate, which I have served this year as the director responsible for repairs and maintenance.

Our neighborhood buildings are crumbling after having served residents for decades, and the deterioration and degradation has demanded considerable effort.

A leak reported on the eve of the new year break when the entire country basically shuts down for about a week has been particularly time-consuming.

On top of requiring emergency work, the leak has proved to be harder to fix than expected.

Another resident stepped in and helped out, but even with his aid I have been required to spend at least some time nearly every single day in the past six weeks trying to deal with the problem.

When I looked outside on the snow, I realized I should get out and shovel the snow, but I let the arguments against doing so because I am already a bit done with devoting even more time than I have.

I was selfish, but should have gone out and shoveled anyway. In the end, our young neighbor from upstairs beat me to it. I’m glad, to be honest, because things has gotten very taxing in the meantime.

As a result of the aforementioned injuries to my hand and leg last year, I built up medical expenses to the extent that I am eligible to claim a refund for health costs.

To do this, I need to file a tax return. And it should have been easy. I’ve been an early adopter of government services provided through the MyNumber ID card, one of which is filing tax returns.

As a pay-as-you-earn taxpayer in Japan, my company files my taxes for me, as is the standard practice. But when claiming a return for medical expenses, you need to file a final tax return. I have meticulously recorded my expenses, maintained all the receipts and studied the system so I could file the return through my phone.

Theoretically, all I needed to do was hold my phone to a National Tax Agency QR code and it would set me on the process to file a return. Unfortunately, I’d updated the MyNumber card a few weeks ago and all the linking of services that I had made were invalidated.

Then, I mistook my PIN and locked myself out of the account. I needed to go through a rigorous re-set process that involved heading out in the blizzard and re-setting my password via a government service function on a copier in the local convenience store.

It was interesting walking in the snow, which acted as a cushion, and the most comfortable I have been traveling on foot since breaking my leg in November last year.

Anyway, with everything set, all my supporting documents in place and feeling grateful the weather had given me the opportunity to work inside without concern of the possibility of missing out on being outside. I was ready to file my tax return.

A few steps in, the site asked me to submit a list of my expenses in a file in the .xml format. I’d entered details of the 70-plus visits I’d made to medical institutions in 2025 on an Excel worksheet in .xlsx format, which is pretty standard for the times. My attempt to convert the file didn’t work, so I made an entirely new file, inputting each entry individually and then saving it in the format that dates back to 2003.

The e-Tax site had timed me out in the meantime, necessitating a return to the beginning of the filing process. When I eventually made it to the appropriate page, I was delighted when the page accepted my revamped file. We moved onto a new page that asked for my User ID number issued by the National Taxation Agency. I had no idea what it was. I could proceed no further.

A study online revealed that the only way to obtain a User ID number was to go and apply for one at the local tax office; the very location I had just spent hours trying to avoid by navigating the Kafkaesque menagerie of government websites allegedly integrated but with no interlinking operations.

I gave up and decided to write a bloody blog post instead.