HAPPY EOFY

 
No I’m not trying to flog you some unnecessary Foxtel goodness.  I’m wishing you a Happy End of Financial year.

 
For a living, during the day, I prepare tax returns.  Now, now, don’t go all Justin Bieber fanlike and mob me, I know it’s pretty awesome.

 
But to be honest, the beginning of a new financial year in an Accounting practice is actually quite exciting.  For one, we get REALLY busy.  And for two, we, um, get to use our mad tax skillz and get people massive refunds.  Sometimes.  Not always.  Please don’t hate me....

 
I joke, but I’ve been at my current job for nearly ten years.   I’ve been in the tax game, with a small break in transmission here and there,  for 18 years. 

 
But I’m guessing like anyone who’s ever worked for someone, it’s only a matter of time before you realise, it’s not about the work you do necessarily, but the people you work with.   I’ve worked at a few dodgy places.  Some where the principals idea of preparing journal entries was sticking his hand down your blouse (he didn’t actually crack on to me, but I was warned several times to be wary) and another where the guy was masquerading as an accountant, solicitor and a real estate agent combined, and was prepared to pay me the big dollars to shut up and just go with it.  Hmmm, no thanks.  Funnily enough, after years of watching Prisoner, my desire to have my head slammed in an ironing press and to become the prison wardens bitch wasn’t high.  So I quit. 

That aside, after working for a wonderful boss, I’ve learnt quite a few things in my time that might just help out the uninitiated with preparation of tax returns and the like this year.  Having said that, this information,  to the general population will be (as Alf from Home and Away would say) stating the flaming obvious.

 
Keep your receipts!!!  Far out, the amount of people who come in and tell us that they want us to get them “most of their tax back” and then give us fuck all in the way of receipts, just astounds me.  Hang on there young fella, I just need to grab my magic wand and conjure up some kind of mystical law-fucking spell that allows me to do that.  We need to see evidence.  End of story.

 
Don’t listen to the Pub Accountant.  A few beers, a few peanuts and the advice starts to flow.  “My mate Johnno gets all of his tax back EVERY SINGLE YEAR”.  That’s because he claims his pool, and his married mans tax and he says he works from home and claims his whole house as a tax deduction.  OH REAAAALLLY?  It is so incredibly dangerous to listen to this shit.  What you’ve got to understand, is that your accountant will be doing their damnedest  (well the good ones anyway) to get you the best, legitimate tax outcome. That way, you can recommend them to others. Why on earth would we be trying to get you the shittest refund in history?  Do you think we enjoy death threats?  Let me tell you from experience, we don’t. 

 
Don’t smoke heaps of pot before coming into see your accountant.  I really don’t think I need to elaborate.

 
We are not the enemy.  In fact, we work for you and not the tax office.  But, we do have to use their laws and guidelines.  Please don’t treat us like bits of shit and tell my boss that you hope “she dies over the weekend” because Child Support took all of your refund.    Not cool.

 
Your refund will take 14 days.  Not 10.  Not 7.  Especially, not 4.  Please don’t keep ringing; we will contact you the minute it arrives in our letter box.  This has been especially hard since the Australian Taxation office implemented a new software system that completely shit itself in December last year.  Think QLD health pay bungle and multiply it by 5.  Yep, that fucked.  Hoping to hell it’s fixed by July 1.

 
Last but not least, if in doubt, ask!!  The old mantra there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers, totally applies here.  However, if you do not listen to the reasonable answer you are given and just continue on to be a fuckwit, I reserve the right to hang up on you.  OK, so, sorted??  Good.

 
Happy EOFY everyone and best of luck with the tax man.