In earlier posts, I have bemoaned my mathematical abilities. Honestly, I’m *really* not so crash hot with numbers. So tax time gives me the heebie-jeebies. I don’t like it, I’m not entirely sure of all the ins- and – outs, and frankly, it scares me just a little. (well, a huge amount, really!)
Especially since starting my company three years ago, with Hubby and my mum as co-directors, and then deciding that, six months ago, it would be best if I were the sole director. And that my regular H&R Block man doesn’t *do* company tax returns, and Hubby (who has done them since the company existed) was also not happy to do them anymore because of how convoluted the businesses all were (three business, subsidiaries of the one company, however my marketing work is kinda shared unequally between one of the businesses within the company, and my personal sole-trader-ship business, that I set up years and years ago). See my problem?
Enter a very recently employed book-keeper. She managed to – somehow!! – get my papers in some semblance of an order. Enter tax appointment, 9am today. The tax accountant also managed to – very slowly – explain to me what I had done right, what I had done wrong (and needed to fix, or undo) and give several ‘suggestions’ – which I’m now thinking I should take as gospel. And I’m also wondering if it’s all worth it. Cos I’m going to be losing so darn much in tax anyway.
And you want to know something else I learned today, for the very first time? That the government taxes the interest you earn in your personal bank account. I can’t believe it! That’s absolutely insane. I think our country’s gone mad. Like I think I’m about to. Mad as in insane. I’m too incredulous to be the mad-furious variety.