Okay, so you know how I have been singing Bench's praises all goddamn year? Like, psychopath level praises? WELL THIS IS WHY. I just logged into my account this morning, and here are a few of the numbers I can see with just a click:
$34,422.64. That's how much we spent this year on monthly subscriptions to software and apps. (JESUS H. CHRIST, WHO AM I? That is more than my first year's salary as a marketing assistant. That said, a big chunk of that—$13,500—goes only to Active Campaign for email marketing.)
$30,435.25. That's how much we spent for independent contractors. You know, like web design, virtual assisting, keeping Ash sane. That sort of thing.
$10,857.89. That's how much went to Paypal, those brilliant, wily bastards.
$3,699.18. That's how much I spent on health insurance—because, HAIII, did you know you can write off your health insurance if you're self-employed?
$2,405.11. That's how much I spent on professional liability insurance—which, yes, you should have, and you can also deduct!
In total, we had $111,373.97 in expenses this year, excluding December since it hasn't been reconciled yet. And you know why that's important to know?
Because holy fucksticks, that's A LOT OF MONEY. Are you ever like, “but where did the money goooo?!” That's what I was like! Fortunately, however, because my bookkeepers are LIFE, they are constantly working behind the scenes to categorize all of our expenses, and all of our revenue, and all of the things we're able to write off, so all I have to do? Is log in and look and not feel like such an unorganized butthead. I can easily see where we're bleeding money, where we can afford to spend more, and what the hell is going on with our cash flow. And the best part? Come January 1, all I need to do is give my accountant a log-in. Books are perfectly reconciled, and he can start working on our taxes before it's tax season—which means we get the work done for much cheaper, and with much less stress.
ISN'T THAT LOVELY? Sure beats what I used to do, letting all of my bank transactions haphazardly flow into Quickbooks, or Wave, or Xero all year, and then having to scramble for weeks trying to (a) make sense of the entire mess; (b) not knowing what I could properly deduct without being prosecuted by the IRS; (c) having NO idea what I would owe in taxes; (d) Having to pay a lot of money last minute to have all an entire year's worth of transactions reconciled; (e) Having to hang my head in shame to my accountant, who was like: Seriously? You are SO not put together.
So this is why I love the banana flambe out of Bench: they make me look like a real, organized grown-up. They also save me thousands of dollars every year, having sh*t categorized correctly as deductions.
WHICH IS WHY I AM PUMPED TO TELL YOU THAT, HOLY MOTHER OF MATH, THEY JUSSSSST INTRODUCED AN ALL-NEW STARTER PACKAGE FOR FREELANCERS AND SIDE HUSTLES FOR THE END OF THE YEAR, AND IT'S CHEAPER THAN YOUR CHEAPO CLIENT WHO NITPICKS YOUR EVERY MOVE.
This is huggeeeee. And, and, and! Since I'm an official ambassador (I forced them to let me be), if you sign-up for a delicious free trial right now through The Middle Finger Project team using this link (go team!), they will (a) think I am a badass for bringing them all of these fancy new customers, and; (b) reconcile your last month's books for free and give you 20% off your first six months as a subscriber perk.
But ya gotta do it today. Because isn't today always better, before it gets ahead of you? All you have to do is enter your name and email real quick and answer a few questions and they'll get in touch. (And P.S.? If you are one of those people who needs your entire books done retroactively for all year, they've got your back on that, too. Easy peasy.)
Hey, random monthly charges you totally forgot about that are eating away at your profits, be damned! (Lookin' at you, thing I signed up for 8 years ago and never cancelled.) Now you'll be in complete control of the money coming in versus the money coming out—and just like me, you'll become one of those organized people who has her shit together.
Or, at least, her accountant will think she does.