Tuesday

Review: Tax returns

This is a topical review, about a matter of national consequence, like a columnist writing about the war/any war/all wars. I am going to reveal, in chronological order, the sequence of thoughts I have during January:

1 January: “Look, a new year! During this year I will become more organised, wear more make up, develop a stronger work ethic, learn to walk in high heels, fall in love, take up a sport, learn to heal cancer through the laying on of hands, be kind to children and the disaffected young, finish my book and visit the countryside at weekends. And I will do my tax return on time. That is the most important thing. God, my head is killing me.”

15 January: “It’s mid-January and they’ve put up exactly the same ads as last year, the ones with JAN 31 in huge red letters and a man pointing at them with a subtly sorrowful expression on his face, like, ‘I know you will not meet this deadline, even though it is so big and red, but I want you to know that you will regret it for the rest of your life.’ Also, today is my ex-ex-boyfriend’s birthday. I will text him. No I will not. I will text him. No I will not.”

21 January: “If I do my tax return this weekend, it will be in on time in a way that isn’t even stressful and I’ll feel as though my life is working like a small, well-designed machine whose purpose is comfort – an electric fan, perhaps, or a pair of headphones.”

23 January: “Maybe I’ll go out instead. That will make me happier in the short term. It’s all about living in the moment. Yeah. The moment. The moment is like, a house, and I should just move in and, kind of, decorate.”

27 January: “They only fine you £100 for a late tax return. £100 isn’t very much to pay for the pleasure of having the tax return deadline rolled back until July, when they fine you again for having a ganglion where your brain should be.”

30 January: “Fuck, I don’t understand how to fill out this form and I have no money anyway and probably I don’t even owe any tax so it shouldn’t even matter.”

1 February: “My tax return is late. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tax returns: How can I be this much of a moron and still manage to feed and clothe myself? 0 out of 10