You are looking at a pile of receipts. Some of the receipts represent things Bossy will declare on her taxes, which is the last accountant-appointment-related thing Bossy wants to discuss.
Bossy has been a full time freelance writer for a few years, but she has never taken full advantage of the things she can write off her taxes. This probably goes back to feeling like a fake, and hello sweet therapist’s couch!
But this year, owing to her pop culture blog maybe you’ve heard of it, Bossy will explore tax write-offs in areas such as the home office, entertainment, and equipment related to her computer and camera.
The problem is that Bossy and her husband tend to be a wee bit disorganized in their collection of receipts. So recently Bossy had an idea, and this was it: collect every damn receipt.
Remove the tortured decision over which things apply and pocket that baby.
In a perfect world, Bossy collects those receipts and immediately places them in a manilla envelope marked by year — and when that is full, she’ll start a new manilla envelope marked by year — until she is buried alive by manilla envelopes, the end.
In an imperfect world — and no, the above example doesn’t already represent an imperfect world — Bossy’s carefully collected receipts
end up in teetering piles because she hurriedly prepares to go to a free concert at noon by dangling her messenger bag upside down and shaking, so it weighs less.
Bossy’s plan is that she and her husband can more intelligently comb through the manilla envelopes at a later time, like after they are both dead. But at least they will have all the receipts at their fingertips. Their calcified fingertips.
By the way, Bossy’s friend Amy thinks this is the worst plan she has ever heard during her eighty-five years on earth.
She’s all, “My husband puts his receipts directly into an accordion file with pre-designated categories such as car, gas, entertainment, and home office.”
But Bossy thinks she would never be able to keep up such a rigorous routine, where rigorous equals not napping on the sofa.
Bossy’s council? What say you?