Nu dles

Delicious stir-fry and slippery noodles, all slurped up for an early dinner as I had to go out to a very long meeting this evening. The Sage came to look for me just as the last three of us left, having put away the tables and chairs afterwards. Everyone had been very appreciative of the jelly babies, Minstrels, grapes, satsuma segments and drinks which eased our way through a productive and harmonious session, so we didn’t begrudge the time it all took.

I was really tired last night and unwisely went to bed early. You’d think I’d have learned by now but I never do. After an hour’s sound sleep I was wide awake by quarter to midnight, eventually got up, went back to bed, finally fell asleep sometime after four o’clock and was woken by Tilly barking at the newspaper delivery man at 7.15. I feel that I’ve had a long day.

There’s lots to do this week, which is quite jolly actually. I’ve been coasting rather, recently, which is pleasant in itself but gives rise to uncomfortable feelings that life isn’t meant to be this relaxed and there must be an awful lot of things I’ve forgotten. What’s good is that I’ve done some paperwork for the Sage today that I’d earmarked Thursday for, so I feel a bit ahead of myself. Just as well, as that means I can do the washing and buying and packing for my holiday on Thursday instead. And I sorted out my papers for the Sage to take to the accountant tomorrow – thank goodness, he takes my stuff along with his so I don’t have to. But when he asked for it, I went to the designated folder and just got everything out, and then went to another box file and got the other category of stuff out and it was all there, in perfect order, which makes me feel mighty pleased. I’ve never had such a big income as this year before (don’t get too excited, it basically means that I can pay for my own holiday and credit card bill if the Sage doesn’t get there first, and I’ll actually pay income tax which is a first for me) and I’m glad that there wasn’t a last-minute panic because I hadn’t kept the paperwork up.

Tomorrow, Nadfas in the morning, computer work (yes, work, not blog reading) in the afternoon and gardening club in the evening. Wednesday, haircut, then a funeral, then a governors’ meeting which – well, I rather think my fate will be sealed there. Thursday, getting ready to go away *memo to self: travel insurance and euros to buy* and Friday, high school music, Founder’s Day ceremony, then drive to Wiltshire to my sister. Saturday afternoon, drive with Wink and the Bod to Bournemouth, Sunday morning at larkfart get on a plane to Portugal.

Yup, that’s my week. If all goes to plan, that is. And, apart from tomorrow, I’ll have every evening with my Sage, so that he’ll miss me dreadfully next week. Because if I don’t go away, how is he to remember how much he loves me? And it’s a bit lowering to have to remind him.

Heh. D’you see him forgetting?

7 comments on “Nu dles

  1. martina

    Are UK income tax forms due at the end of the year? That does seem to be cruel and unusual punishment. Here they are due April 15 every year.

  2. Ivy

    Gosh, how organised you are to have your week all planned out like that. I haven`t a clue what I`m doing each day (apart from work each morning).

    Enjoy your holiday when you get away.

  3. Dave

    No Martina, the end of the year is the final deadline for sending in tax returns. The tax year starts on the 5th April, and the forms come out a few days after that. I completed mine in April, and had received my tax refund by June.

    Some people, though, prefer to leave things until a little closer to the deadline.

  4. Z

    Will you be self employed now 4D?

    Still loads of time, Dave, and I’ve got the money ready to pay whatever I owe by the end of January. No point in paying it earlier, is there? Though I won’t be rushing to beat the deadline either, I’ll leave a few days in hand.

    If I had a proper job, Ivy, I’d not have to keep such an organised diary. I mostly remember what I have to do and only make lists if I’m really pushed, but appointments have to be written down.

  5. Christopher

    My grandfather used to compose his own Christmas greetings, generally a pithily pompous apothegm (Dave: this is not another euphemism for ‘drunk’)
    that made you curl your toes in embarrassed agony. One year it was ‘From full endeavour flourishes a flowering of life’. He was proud of the alliteration and to extend it even endowed the W of ‘flowering’ with a sort of breathy lip-pressure, as pronounced in German.

    I see you must have been his model. For the full endeavour, that is, not the alliteration.

    Bom viagem!

  6. Z

    I try to avoid alliteration on the whole, Christopher. Since reading Reginald at a formative age, it’s all been referred to dismissively as “widgeon westward winging” by me. I’m afraid that Saki really did shape my life.

    I do practically nothing, compared to most people, by the way. I just tell you all about it.


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