Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Cold Comfort Form

I missed the self assessment tax return date. I saw the adverts with the strange man who tells us what the Tudors did for us (I know what the Tudors did for us - I went to school - now enough of your nonsense and get back to writing big books that nobody reads, like a proper historian) and still missed the deadline. I wrote a big note in my diary saying 'this is the last day you can do the return without missing the banking deadline' and sailed merrily through it. I had a call from my mother to ask whether I had remembered to hit the deadline and replied 'oh, it'll get done'.

I think the key is in the last one. It will get done. Note the passive construction. Deep down, I really believed that somehow it would get done, without my involvement. This would have been the case had I had the sense to put all my papers in a big bag marked 'papers' and sent them to an accountant. I meant to do that, then thought, 'hey, I'll do it myself, how hard can it be?' Question answered.

Oh well.

It's really cold today. Almost as cold as the night I did drinking with the lovely Debs & Alex - we staggered down Tib Street and discovered the following:

It's like a dope smoking Rolf Harris in a Star Trek outfit. Cool.

I also found a really good site that lets you track the frequency of your surname over a hundred years - which is you have an unusual/weird surname like mine is really interesting. Who'd a thunk there were so many of my relatives in the Western Isles?

Perhaps I could situate my gay pet breeding business there and get back in touch with my roots at the same time? It's an option.


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