Originally published in The Clifton Courier, July 19, 2017

It’s tax time and I have no idea what I’m doing.

This year I’m lodging my tax return as someone who gained income from employment, but also as a small business owner. Yep. Me. I have an ABN. I send invoices. I’ve even started going to coffee places (granted, I buy chai tea lattes because I like sugar and real coffee makes me too jittery to function).

I am a businesswoman, technically speaking.

But it doesn’t really feel like it. And it’s not just because I don’t own a blazer.

It’s because this right here is my business. Me, jabbering on about my weekend, my warped views and, more that should be legally allowed, my vomit. I remember registering for my ABN struggling to define my “business”. But I stumbled through it and haven’t been arrested by the ATO yet so I’m feeling OK.

However, it’s now tax time and I’m mighty confused.

You see, I’m of a general understanding that I can claim expenses relating my business.

But remembering that my “business” is me complaining in about 600 words (let’s face, it’s always a little more because who wants a short, succinct story when a long rambling one will also eventually get to the same point and include more confusing tangents?) this becomes problematic. Because there are a lot of expenses that could vaguely fit into this category which I would love to claim as deductions but would also feel anxious about because I don’t like the idea of going to jail for tax fraud (although it could potentially make for a few great chapters of my currently boring memoir).

Here is a list of just a few things that in my head, fall into this “business expenses” category:

At least one flight from Toowoomba to Sydney: I once wrote a column while in the air, albeit via text messages to myself. And the column was about me texting myself on a flight. So technically, the cost of the ticket to be on a flight that was both the subject of and the place in which I wrote my column should be deductable, right? I mean, as great as it is to be able to go from sitting in my sister’s lounge room eating Super Rooster to sitting on a flight bound for Sydney in the space of about 20 minutes, that convenience costs money. Money I could be spending on chicken burgers.

Hair ties: Because with hair as long as mine, you can’t just let it hang out. It gets distracting. Even if it is in a ponytail, I find myself twirling my hair instead of typing. So it needs to be pulled back into a bun so I forget I have hair and move on with my life.

Several baked goods bought on impulse: These are strictly business because I use them as motivation to actually get my writing done instead of watching another episode of Pretty Little Liars. Knowing I have an almond meal doughnut at the finish line is sometimes the only thing that gets me there. So yes, I would argue that doughnuts are a necessity to my business.

The cost of the hot chips I sucked all the salt off then put back in the container after vomiting on my steering wheel while driving last year: Because without that life-giving sodium I would still be laying in a park in Brisbane, my dress soaked through with watery stomach bile. And I couldn’t contribute to my business in a crusty dress with no wifi connection.

One bottle of black nail polish: I’m convinced it boosts my productivity because I like the look of black nails on a keyboard so I make a habit of typing as much as possible when I can be arsed to paint my nails black.

Hmmm. It seems a little out of my depth. I think I need to consult an accountant. Or maybe buy a blazer?