It's Monday. Call the IRS.

Everyone has a routine of some kind. Get up, go to work, etc. My husband Calvin has that routine. But he has something special that most people don’t share. Part of his routine is “It’s Monday. Call the IRS.”

In case you don’t remember or missed the post back in January, someone (may a hideous pox be upon them) filed a fraudulent tax return with my husband’s social security number. Thankfully, we filed early in January so as the IRS was processing the fraudulent return the real return came up and they froze the returns.

No one notified us. We found out when our applications for college financial aid (we have three kids in college) were unable to be processed. We made phone calls and discovered the issue.

Naively, we figured that we’d get it taken care of. It’s been nearly ten months. We filed tons of documentation. Nada. Every time Cal calls, some agent gives him a “story” and a promise. The promises are empty. “Oh, Mr. Keller, when you called last…well, it looks like Mr. Jones filed the wrong paperwork.” Once, our fraud complaint was filed as a “change of address.”

Cal is now building a “folder” documenting his interactions. He used to ask for the agent’s name—they give fake names like “Miss Smith.” I’m not surprised they don’t want citizens to know who they are. Now he gets their badge number.

Our goal is to get this resolved before we file taxes this January. In the meantime, it’s Monday. It’s time to call the IRS.