This post is going to be boring.
I can tell you right now. I'm giving you plenty of prior warning. Feel free to go elsewhere and read up about the science behind paint drying because it's guaranteed to titivate you way more than this insipid post will.
Because today, I'm talking about tax.
Yep.
Tax.
And not just about tax. We're going to be deep diving into all matter of wonderfully mind-numbing topics like life insurance, medical cover and your personal will. Get excited.
This comes about because I have decided I'm not a very good adult. I am an excellent almost-adult – a hybrid between a youth and a real person, but lacking the kind of worldly skills and knowledge that make me an actual real person. I do almost-adult with breathtaking effortlessness. I have almost-adult down to a fine art. I can pay my rent on time. I know I need to set aside enough of my monthly salary to pay bills and buy Oreo stash. I can even scrimp a few coins together to put into savings. But those savings are not going towards a nest egg, a nest or even the branches said nest is meant to rest in. That money is being put away so I can fly off to some far away country and spoil me, myself and I. This is what makes me a fully-fledged almost-adult. Selfishness.
There are just responsibilities in being an adult that I don't understand, nay comprehend in any capacity. And I was never told that I would need to know or care about these things. When I was innocently flicking through the glossy pages of Cleo and Cosmo at the tender age of 14, no where was there any guidance on 'how to complete your annual tax refund' or 'what the hell is a medicare levy'. Zilch. 'How to make him hot' though, well, that I got down pat.
Needless to say, in completing Tax Return 2013 (during the aforementioned Vitriolic Chest Infection Which Almost Claimed My Life) I remembered how useless I am at pretending to be a real person. I couldn't get the damn thing done without calling my mother on numerous occasions to make sure I wasn't going to get put away for tax fraud. Granted, I ended up getting money back (which is, of course, all going towards the 'Kristen Returns to America 2013' fund) but I don't think I got nearly as much back as a real adult would have. Apparently, there are all these tricky tricks and loopy holes that are lost on me as an almost-adult, but which real adults are using to swindle oodles of tax rebate out from under the tax man's nose.
I may be able to pay my rent and buy Oreos, but I pretty much toss everything else in the 'Parents Still Take Care Of That' basket. Like
Medicare
Private Health Insurance
My last will and testament
Electorate enrollment
Scary banking things I shouldn't be in control of – like credit cards.
Green slips.
Pink slips.
Registration.
Car insurance.
Loans.
Mortgages.
Stamp Duty.
Brain explosion!!!!
As I said, not a very good adult. At my age, my parents had bought a house. I can barely commit to putting my name on a lease. And I can't even chalk it up to being a generational thing. All my friends appear to be doing an excellent job at crossing the almost-adult-to-fully-fledged adult divide. They're buying furniture - 'investment pieces'. An almost-adult is too transient to buy furniture. We choose to pick up our furniture from the side of the road. We naturally shy away from anything that requires serious consideration and any kind of remote financial investment.
Oreos, however. Oreos are worth it.
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