Death and Taxes.

Doing your taxes sucks. Super sucks. 
Especially if you're me and you're eyes start to cross at the sight of numbers. 
Especially if you're me and you graduated high school having failed the provincial math exam. Especially if you're me and you freelance in an industry that pays in cash at the end of the job. And Especially if you've worked close to 20 jobs in the past year. 
Yeah, taxes suck.

So here I am, sorting through a year's worth of T4's, pay stubs, cheque photo copies, invoices and receipts, eating something that claims to be risotto out of a plastic bag (My Mom would be so proud). Who am I kidding? I've done my taxes for ages, and I have a solid track record for doing them wrong each and every single year. So this year I surrender, I'm going to the mall and having a professional in a booth do them. 


Stuff I know: If you're not a mechanic don't fix your own car, and if you're a math idiot don't do your own taxes.


I love being an adult, and if I keep saying that to myself enough I may start to believe it.