I pay someone to do our taxes. Today was the day where I make my annual visit to the converted garage of Gus Johnston and his aptly named Johnston’s Tax Service to determine how much extra money I paid the government this year. I should make a better effort of balancing out such silliness as dependants and withholdings, but frankly I don’t care. I would rather get a large sum from the government then find myself owing when it comes down to it. I don’t mind paying income taxes, per se. I could do without the ridiculous property taxes I pay, but that’s not the reason I’m talking about taxes.
Abby took less than an hour to get everything filed. For $100, she got everything filed neatly and nicely for me and helped me figure out how to deal with The Kid’s expenses (Side Note: If you didn’t know, The Kid has Celiac disease. The only treatment is dietary change, so the difference between regular products (say, a 99-cent loaf of Wegmans white bread) and gluten-free products (a $5.49 loaf of Udi’s “white” bread) is deductible.). I did the research; she did the heavy lifting of calculations and whatnot.
Which brings me to my point. Even if I were a certified tax preparer, I ‘m pretty sure I would hire someone to do my taxes. It strikes me as lunacy that people do this on their own, spending as much on software programs like TurboTax as I do with Abby. I suppose if you itemize nothing and have no dependants it is fine, but why take the chance? Spend all afternoon fiddling with things on TurboTax or sitting on the couch whining about people who waste time using TurboTax? Only one way to go, right?
Anyhow, quick footnote on today’s shopping trip to Wegmans. The dairy department is undergoing a renovation, resulting in about 16-feet of cooler space being blocked off. And, for the first time in recent memory, I was able to actually walk from the meat case to the grocery department without homicidal rage against the hens that park their asses in front of the yogurt to compare ingredients, or in front of the sour cream to see what advancements in dip technology have been made since the last time they purchased French onion dip, or (my personal favorite) parents with the gigantic should-be-illegal carts who use that moment in time to stop and prepare a four-course meal for their precious snowflake because they cannot wait 30 more seconds to eat even though there are children in the Sudan that do days between meals.
So, thumbs up to Wegmans. Unfortunately, I don’t think that this is a permanent change.