In my first job as a brand-new CPA, I spent an entire afternoon chasing a mysterious $27 discrepancy. I knew it was a transposition error, as it was divisible by nine! I combed through statements line by line. The sun set, the office emptied, and the cleaning crew found me still hunched over numbers. They even asked if I wanted to work for them. Tempting. The culprit? A check for pizza. Hours of my life, gone to pepperoni. At 25, I realized accounting was full of important but soul-crushing busywork.
Back then, clients dropped off paper statements. No online banking, no internet, phones with cords. On my green 13-columnar ledger pad, I recorded every check one by one: Date, Check Number, Vendor, Category, Amount. Repeat. More billable hours needed? I jotted down the memo. Our big tech upgrade? An electric pencil sharpener. By the time I finished reconciling, it was already next month. I wasn’t practicing accounting. I was Bob Cratchit hunched over Scrooge’s ledgers by candlelight, hoping nobody noticed I put more coal on the fire.
Fast forward: computers, the internet, apps. And now? AI. The ultimate upgrade. It’s like the intern who actually likes repetitive tasks, never complains, and doesn’t eat my Crumbl cookies in the break room. I let AI do the boring stuff so I can focus on work that makes clients say, “Wow, I didn’t know an accountant could do that!”
AI eats monotonous work for breakfast. Entering bills? Instant. Categorizing transactions? Automatic. Reconciling accounts? Effortless. Reports that once took hours now arrive in seconds, complete with dashboards, charts, and graphs. Red flags? Highlighted. Successes? Spotlighted. Yoda even seems to mutter from my desk, “Run out of cash, your client will. Warn them, you must.”
People don’t leave accounting because the work is hard. They leave because it’s mind-numbing. When AI clears the fog, the job becomes interesting again. Less treadmill, more open road with the windows down and the radio blasting.
Here’s the tricky part: if AI does in five minutes what used to take hours, how do you price that? Hourly billing collapses. I could invoice for 0.08 hours, but my client would think I’ve lost it. The solution? Subscription pricing. Clients don’t pay for your time; they pay for peace of mind, clarity, and confidence.
Think about Starbucks. You don’t pay for the time it took to make your latte. You pay for consistency, experience, and the caffeine-fueled hope you’ll survive another Zoom call. Same for accounting - AI lets us focus on delivering outcomes, not logging hours.
AI frees up time, but what you do with that time sets you apart. Imagine calling a client: “Hey, I noticed your expenses spiked last month. Let’s talk before it snowballs.” Or sending a short video explaining results in plain English. Or showing up with treats because you know payroll week is stressing them out. That’s concierge-level service. Clients don’t expect it. And they never forget it.
People don’t rave about a restaurant because the place is clean. They rave about the server who remembers their favorite booth, the staff who know their name, and the friend who doesn’t judge them for ordering two desserts. I want your firm to be that restaurant. Instead of breakfast, lunch, or dinner, serve proactive advice.
With AI, I don’t just work faster - I think differently. Why compete with firms bragging about being the cheapest when I can stand out for being the most valuable? I can create forecasts, profitability scorecards, and industry benchmarks so clients see how they measure up against peers. Disruption isn’t about doing the same work quicker. It’s about offering something new nobody else delivers.
Think about Netflix. They started mailing DVDs. Then they switched to streaming. Same company, whole new game. Once you flip that switch, you can’t go back.
You don’t need to go full sci-fi overnight. Start small. Lean into AI for one dreaded task - bank recs, expense categorization, whatever drains your energy. Celebrate the time saved. Then reinvest that time into something clients actually notice. It’s like clearing out a cluttered office: move the junk, open the space, and make room for what matters.
AI isn’t stealing jobs. It’s stealing busywork. And I welcome that. Every time AI takes another tedious task off my plate, I yell “FREEDOM!” like Braveheart. Now I can focus on work that clients truly value. That builds loyalty, justifies premium pricing, and makes our firms the ones people brag about at Chamber Happy Hour. I can hear it now: “My accountant sends me videos breaking down my numbers before I even ask. Does yours?”
Nobody brags about reconciliations. They brag about the accountant who saves their business from a cash crunch and still has time to recommend a good burger joint.
AI is my secret weapon. Make it yours too. Not because it makes you faster, but because it makes you unforgettable. And thanks to AI, I’ll never waste another sunset chasing down a $27 pizza check again.