My boss nonchalantly slides a crisp sheet of paper onto my desk. I know immediately that it’s something to do with my stock options but all I see is jargon.
I was clueless and completely new to the world of startups. Within three months, I went from pursuing medical school to being one of ten employees at a tech startup in San Francisco.
As a child of immigrants, I’ve been handling complicated tax issues for my parents since I was twelve years old. The IRS and I are on friendly terms for the most part—they’re like the relatives you dread seeing on Thanksgiving. Regardless, you grit your teeth and make pleasant conversation because that’s the appropriate thing to do. Be good company and you might avoid unwanted interaction until the next turkey day.
“Got it…will do!” My boss nodded once and walked off. I kept my word and speedily filed that 83b, despite my confusion on what “tax trouble” meant in this context.