Bored by books
It's an incentive, when shuffling about through receipts and computer files, to realise if you can find legitimate expenses these will lessen the amount of tax to pay. There is also some small part of me that quite likes the feeling you get after you've finished. It must be how organised people feel all the time: tidy and clear in the head. So if somebody asks me how much I spent on an Ikea office chair I can supply them with an answer. Pow! And the invoice number too.
They don't call it taxing for nothing, however, and by the afternoon vacuuming had become an attractive displacement activity. Also went to the gym, although feeling slightly underpowered today.
Randolph, my new American playwright friend, called around in the afternoon sporting a hat. We mooched off to Starbucks for a chat over a large latte. Randolph - being a Republican and a tad to the right of Genghis Khan - is a bracing change from the lily livered liberals I tend to consort with. He loathes state intervention in people's lives and would, in one of his more mild mannered interventions, ban the Arts Council.
Home to eat couscous (which is the new PK food) and prawns (shared with a pleading Calliope). Then settled down on the gold sofa to watch England qualify for the world cup finals by spanking the troublesome Croats 5-1 at Wembley. England's latest coach, is an Italian called Capello. Enigmatic and slightly aloof, after the game he moved among his players, shaking hands but few of them met his eyes apart from John Terry the captain. I think Capello may be rather big and clever.
Trying to decide what to do about the giant moth Calliope brought in the other night. It managed to break free of her and now resides high on the wall, where it seems not to have moved in 24 hours. The savage weasel sits under it sometimes waiting for her moment.
Today's date of 9/9/09 apparently led to many weddings of police, ambulance and fire people, as 999 is the number for emergency services in the UK, and so easy for people to remember when it comes to anniversaries.
It's an incentive, when shuffling about through receipts and computer files, to realise if you can find legitimate expenses these will lessen the amount of tax to pay. There is also some small part of me that quite likes the feeling you get after you've finished. It must be how organised people feel all the time: tidy and clear in the head. So if somebody asks me how much I spent on an Ikea office chair I can supply them with an answer. Pow! And the invoice number too.
They don't call it taxing for nothing, however, and by the afternoon vacuuming had become an attractive displacement activity. Also went to the gym, although feeling slightly underpowered today.
Randolph, my new American playwright friend, called around in the afternoon sporting a hat. We mooched off to Starbucks for a chat over a large latte. Randolph - being a Republican and a tad to the right of Genghis Khan - is a bracing change from the lily livered liberals I tend to consort with. He loathes state intervention in people's lives and would, in one of his more mild mannered interventions, ban the Arts Council.
Home to eat couscous (which is the new PK food) and prawns (shared with a pleading Calliope). Then settled down on the gold sofa to watch England qualify for the world cup finals by spanking the troublesome Croats 5-1 at Wembley. England's latest coach, is an Italian called Capello. Enigmatic and slightly aloof, after the game he moved among his players, shaking hands but few of them met his eyes apart from John Terry the captain. I think Capello may be rather big and clever.
Trying to decide what to do about the giant moth Calliope brought in the other night. It managed to break free of her and now resides high on the wall, where it seems not to have moved in 24 hours. The savage weasel sits under it sometimes waiting for her moment.
Today's date of 9/9/09 apparently led to many weddings of police, ambulance and fire people, as 999 is the number for emergency services in the UK, and so easy for people to remember when it comes to anniversaries.
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