Do You Do Taxes?

Around this time of year whenever I tell someone that I’m an accountant the next words out of their mouth is, “Do you do taxes?” While I’m good with numbers and can find creative solutions to solve most mathematical problems, I really hate taxes. I do my own every year and even helped one lady out who hadn’t filed for five years (five years!) but I don’t like doing them. Signing my name on anything that goes to the Feds makes me nervous.

This past Saturday I sat down and crunched the numbers. I figured since my procrastinating ex-roommate had done his already it was time to do mine. I had all my paperwork spread out on the kitchen table with a pencil and calculator in hand. By the time it was all said and done I was getting back $1,400. Not exactly what I had expected but I’d take it none the less.

I went over to the parents’ house on Sunday. Dad had Tax Cut loaded on the computer so I decided I’d enter in my info just to see how close my calculations were.

They weren’t close.

I’m now getting back $2,999.

I’m now paying Dad $40 for the program.

I’m still grinning one day later and I don’t even have my penis in my hand.

I had failed to enter the state taxes paid on the federal form and I didn’t know that US Treasury Bond interest was not taxed in Wisconsin. The first one was just a stupid mistake but I never would have known about the second one.

I’m never doing my taxes again without the help of a tax program. I thought I could do it on my own and I certainly should have been able to, but I’ll never make that mistake again. You can fill up a lot of gas tanks with $1,600. And when I say “fill gas tanks” I mean have sex with weird, psycho, desperate women.