Tuesday, December 11, 2012
This one's for Lizzie 888.
Sometimes a SparkFriend gives you the laugh of the day. I've just seen Lizzie's comment on my feed:
'I think it's about time you won an unpopular blog award... Can you write one about tax returns or something!'
Hm, tax returns. Nope, we have PAYE in the UK. That's 'pay as you earn' . . . through the nose, of course. I haven't done any freelance work for a few years, used to have the headache of filling in tax returns for that and the amount of headache far outdid the amount of money I was getting. Sorting out the tax took me as long as doing the actual freelance job in the first place.
Mind you, you could call fat the tax on eating well rather than wisely. Sooner or later it catches up with you and the Fat Inspector comes knocking at the door. Then it's Payback Time, and you start counting the cost of all that chocolate, hot buttered toast and (in my case) confit duck.
Ah, confit duck. On Christmas Day I'm having eggs benedict for breakfast (home-made Hollandaise sauce with a quarter pound of butter in it), and for lunch parma ham with figs followed by confit duck, a cheese board, Christmas pudding and a quantity of chocolates. I'm fairly confident that after all that, I won't be able to eat much else all day. Indeed, it will take me all day to eat it.
I'll be back on the banana-yellow Ferrari you call the wagon on 26 December, with an image of myself as Claudia Cardinale to spur me on. With any luck, the Fat Inspector will be too busy collecting his cut from everyone else to notice little me having two days off.