…you think you’re done with your taxes, you’re not done with your taxes.
I received a disturbing email from my tax preparer today to whom I usually send my papers and then go back to drinking tea. So, let’s just say that I spent the better part of the day – no, let’s say ALL day – digging through my records which were, thankfully, much better kept than years previous.
It will be okay in the end, but the initial e-mail sent me off on a flurry of “OMG, what else can I deduct? What expenses have I not included? What estimated net of the gross profit phhbbbt did I forget? Aaaaggghhhh!”. I did find a rather large discrepancy because of the flurry and I FINALLY figured out what is going on with that, but I don’t really know how much it’s going to help – although at this point, I’ll take anything I can get. I have an evening of digging through the couch cushions planned. I’ll be the one shoving loose change into the Coinstar machine at the grocery. Please wave when you see me. (I used an Amazon gift card to buy toilet paper today. From Amazon. That’s how badly I reacted to the email from my tax person.) Like I said, no real worries in the real reality, it was just … shocking … the estimated amount due. Really shocking. As in I’m glad I do not have (and/or did not discover) a heart condition shocking. There should’ve been a disclaimer in the subject line of that e-mail!
I’ll save my report on the super fun writer’s meeting I went to on Saturday for a different post. The couch cushions are waiting!