Apart from having unwisely bought a summer frock for Tim’s party, all is in hand for my weekend away. I should say that Tim invited the Sage too, but he’s otherwise engaged, unfortunately. But there’s something rather nice about a bed to oneself and being able to read all night without disturbing someone if one wants to (saying ‘one’ only works *one-ce* – after that, it becomes horribly artificial, doesn’t it).
The Sage had his mid-year tax demand a couple of days ago. Since I’d completely forgotten that a second payment is due at the end of July and I hadn’t budgeted for it, I was slightly alarmed. Not *that* alarmed because my habit of not overspending is deeply engrained.
In fact, I shall explain it. I never spend more than half the money I have available. I never have – when I first had a Saturday job at the local library when I was 16, I was paid monthly by cheque – I had to open a bank account specially. I’d never received pocket money as a child – I was always grateful for book tokens or cash as presents because it was the only time I ever got my hands on any money. Books were bought for myself, but I saved the money for presents. But this monthly paycheque was awfully exciting. My father had died not long previously, and I felt I had to contribute to the family budget, so I bought a treat each month. A nice meal, some grapes or olives or something like that – my mother wouldn’t have thanked me for chocolate. The rest was mine, but I never spent it all. I made an arbitrary rule that I never spent more than half on any one thing. But I really didn’t earn much, so I didn’t fritter it on cheap stuff either. I usually had to save for two or three months to buy anything – by which time, I usually didn’t need or want it any more. But the thing is, it worked, whether I had a fiver or five shillings – I’d only ever be down to my last penny if I’d only had tuppence in the first place.
Anyway, I can’t remember how much I owe the taxman. I’ll get a bill, but I must look up the papers, just as soon as I remember where I put them. And it was a going to be a case of frisking the back of the sofa and long-neglected handbags in the hope of finding lost change or the odd forgotten tenner, until I opened today’s post. A company I’d forgotten I had shares in has been bought out and I’ve been bought out too. Pity to spend it nearly all on a tax bill, but I’m not too bothered about that. The main thing is, I’ve got the money. Whew. And my to-do list is almost fully ticked, for this week anyway. Not that I wrote it, it’s all in my mind and on my nerves. Sort of a nervous tick-list.
I was quite alarmed recently to find that I had money in the bank at the end of the month! I felt sure I must have forgotten to pay something huge. It never appeared though so I must have been being more careful.
(And it is lovely to be able to read in bed without disturbing anyone : )
Nervous tick list? Hah! I have four paper lists, written at various times, and have wasted hours checking them off… Turns out they’re all about the same. It’s all in my head now.
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Dear Z. I don’t quite know how the above comment got published on your blog (Boycott American Women). I find it a little disturbing, but only because the writer obviously has a screw very loose, somewhere.
Regards, Mike.
Of course, paying the tax man certainly breaks the 50% of available money rule.
The unearthly glow of the iPad doesn’t usually disturb the Sage, as long as I read under the covers, but that gets a bit hot!
You look the reliable sort to me, Tim.
It’s evidently an actual nut case who filled in the wv, Mike, not a robot. Mind you, Gledwood’s comment that he accidentally sent anonymously, and all JohnG’s are sent to spam, even though they used wv, which is hardly fair.
I can’t see the comment anymore Z, but from the sound of it, it’s the same nutjob American who’s been doing the rounds for some time now.
Is there any way we can send a vote of support to the American women who have to deal with him??
So glad I’m not having to go through self assessment anymore btw. It was the paying in advance bit that really got me.
Oh, no! I’m Spam! Would you like Picallili?
I agree, Macy, and I was told I’d been undercharged last year so had to pay an extra £1,000 in January which I wasn’t quite prepared for.
John, sorry, I’d love you to pick me a lily.