A couple of weeks ago in this column’s opening meander, I went to excruciatingly unnecessary lengths to tell you how useless I was at admin. With that in mind, you’ll not be surprised to learn that I’m still faffing and footering about with my online self-assessment tax return as the deadline hurtles towards me at the terrifying rate of the mega-meteor that obliterated the dinosaurs.
For ages now, I’ve been getting email reminders from the good folk at HMRC saying, “Don’t leave it to the last minute”. Funnily enough, I also get emails from a weary sports editor saying something similar about filing the Tuesday column…with a couple of colourful phrases added in to hammer home the point.
Of course, as soon as someone urges you not to leave something to the last minute, what do you do? That’s right. You leave it to the last bloomin’ minute. So now, I’ll be spending the final day of January flapping around like a shrieking Pterodactyl that’s bracing itself for an extinction-level event. What was it the late, great Ken Dodd said again? “I told the Inland Revenue I didn’t owe them a penny because I lived near the seaside.” I’m quite near the Queen’s Park duck pond. Does that count?
