‘You have a new message from HMRC.’
Not the best way to start a Friday morning.
I opened up the inbox with some trepidation. Awaiting for me was my first statement since filing my tax return.
Ouch, OUCH.
The ball park figure was about right. It was the various add ons that I was unsure about.
And so I called up Mr HMRC.
Why do I always sound like a twat when speaking with Mr HMRC?
It’s like being back in the Head Teacher’s office - which still occasionally happens.
We agreed on a final figure.
Or rather mr HMRC agreed on a final figure.
How about some work now to pay for all this?
#LateJunction from the night before restored the balance.
The Uniques’ cover of Watch This Sound (For What It’s Worth) gave me a bit of a breakfast bounce with the Bran Flakes.
I made the switch to the new Google Cal mid-morning. It’s looks pretty nifty.
I live by Google Cal…
The mid-morning break for the swim was brisk.
I cycled past the University en route to the pool.
Some kid was wearing a T-shirt with a scarf.
YOU FOOL!
That kid was me 25 years ago.
The swim was short but functional.
I had technique envy [Oooh] with the backstroking butterfly bloke in the adjacent lane.
As the description suggests - he swims a beautiful butterfly. But on his back.
The afternoon work shifts were what you might expect from a run of Friday afternoon work shifts.
A Buzz story that is embargoed until Monday morning was bashed out.
With the Estuary Wilds light fading, I did a runner down to my accountant, Quayside. The company accounts for South Lambeth Road were filed away for another year.
It was a splendid high water.
I had a bit more admin back at base.
Alexa: play the new Blow Monkeys album.
Job’s a good ‘un.
And then early evening, out went the shout of:
“To the Fair City!”
I started the long journey back to Nottingham for a weekend of family things.
I arrived on the rolling borders of the South Notts Wolds just in time for my bedtime hot chocolate.
ROCK ‘N’ ROLL, Jase.