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One For You, Nineteen For Me.


I’ve spent most of the day surrounded by bank statements and receipts, trying to pull together my records for my 2013-14 Tax Return.

I have six days until the deadline. I like to keep things close to the wire. I’m not worried as I’m nearly there. I’m pretty sure I’ll have it sewn up by Tuesday at the latest. I’ll then submit the figures and pray the God of Self Assessment (a hideous Moira Stuart / Adam Hart-Davis amalgam) is kind to me this year. If he / she isn’t, I’ll sell a few vital organs to cover the cost. Maybe even the Hammond in my garage.

If I get a bill, it shouldn’t be too horrific. That's the plus side to a shit financial year. It’s disconcerting to see how many jobs I went up for and didn’t get; so many dates penciled in the diary that didn’t turn to pen. If nothing else, these castings give a lot to claim back on, though in each case, I would have sooner got the gig too.

Here’s hoping 2014-15 will be more successful. I still have three months to turn things around. I’ll do my best to remain optimistic. One small question: does Glyn's birthday card count as a business expense?
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