Taxed Off.

In the end, submitting my self-assessment tax return yesterday was very anti-climactic. 
‎

It would have been nice if there'd been fireworks, or a triumphant fanfare bursting forth from my computer. I would have liked to have high-fived the studio audience, or be lifted onto the shoulders of my team. Even the offer of a cup of tea and a biscuit would have been enough to mark the moment, but in reality, all that happened after I clicked 'submit' was a moment's silence while I waited for confirmation that it had gone through, the receipt of a submission code, before setting about the rigmarole of shutting down my computer and packing away all my receipts to move on to something else.

That said, there was a slight sense of relief. While I've yet to miss a self-assessment deadline, there's always the worry that this year might be the one. Thankfully, it wasn't. The only other thing I felt was amazement at managing to survive on such little earnings. One thing's for certain: you don't become a performer for the money; you do it for the admin. ‎

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