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Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tax
Ah, Christmas. The time of giving, being with family, and watching old Marx Bros movies ("There ain't no Sanity Clause!"). It’s a nice relaxing time of year; but not if, like me, you’ve left your tax return to the last minute, and, being completely disorganised, have had to spend the last five days trying to sift through the mountains of chaos in your home to find all your paperwork. I can think of many pleasurable ways of spending time during the holidays, and none of them involve filing income and expenditure details…
It’s my own fault really, leaving everything to the last minute; I’m a terrible procrastinator with a very short attention span. Even now, I’m blogging, rather than collating piles of paper: it affords a quick distraction from the inevitable tax boredom that I have lying ahead. But I must get back to it or I’ll never file it by the deadline. Which means sacrifices have to be made to get it in on time – even, postponing a rather delicious crotch-warming offer of a seasonal treat (man + massage oil x long cold night = fun).
Dammit, must finish my tax; I need to get rubbing. Literally.
It’s my own fault really, leaving everything to the last minute; I’m a terrible procrastinator with a very short attention span. Even now, I’m blogging, rather than collating piles of paper: it affords a quick distraction from the inevitable tax boredom that I have lying ahead. But I must get back to it or I’ll never file it by the deadline. Which means sacrifices have to be made to get it in on time – even, postponing a rather delicious crotch-warming offer of a seasonal treat (man + massage oil x long cold night = fun).
Dammit, must finish my tax; I need to get rubbing. Literally.
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