I should have done my annual accounts on Tuesday, the day I’d earmarked. But I didn’t. I faffed around, pretending to be busy. Deadline is 10.30 tomorrow morning and I was out yesterday. So it had to be done today, but I still spent the morning on other things.
However, I’ve never missed a deadline yet and I finally got the work done by 7 o’clock this evening. I had one more set of expenses that I couldn’t track down, and Tim suggested I search again in the morning, but I persevered and found them. Hah.
Expenses were so heavy for the last tax year that I shouldn’t be paying any tax, but the self-employed system means that I’m charged half next year’s up front, so I will. But it’ll come off the year after (and be charged the next year, so I have alternate fat and lean years, taxwise) and it levels out in the end.
Either you do your tax returns as soon as possible or leave it as late as you can. On the fence as I habitually am, I do neither. Normally, I get it done in the summer, but my accountant has been on maternity leave (lovely little baby boy) so it’s slightly late.
My two sons are so different. Al used to leave it until January, as close to the deadline as he could, whereas Ro does his in April, as soon as the tax year starts. Just doing it in time is all that matters, though.
Anyway, enough about that. I’ve had at least half a dozen phone calls today, which was a bit unnerving as weeks can pass without any at all. So I dealt with all those things as they arose. I also – to avoid the accounts – made two loaves of bread and some naan breads, and yoghurt, and bought coal (smokeless fuel nowadays) and I can’t quite remember everything else, but I was very busy. So was Tim. The weekend will start as soon as the accountant leaves tomorrow morning and we will be jolly. Jollifercations, as they say in Norfolk.