



When he wrote « April is the cruellest month, clearly TS Eliot was unto something.
“Something” being : TAX SEASON 🥲
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After plethora of obstacles, nervous breakdowns and many dreadful hours hunched on spreadsheets, I’ve just wrapped up everything and sent all my money to the government. 💸 Please give me praise and rewards for being a good little taxpayers and ***tip your (broke) favorite spicy accountant*** 🌶🥹
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𝒜𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓁 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒽, 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔
𝐿𝒾𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓈 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹, 𝓂𝒾𝓍𝒾𝓃𝑔
𝑀𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓇𝑒, 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔
𝒟𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓉𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓈𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃.
𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝓊𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓂, 𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔
𝐸𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒽 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓈𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔
𝒜 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒹𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝓊𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈.
𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓈, 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒷𝑒𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒𝑒
𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃; 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶𝒹𝑒,
𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝒻𝑔𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝓃,
𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒸𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓇