As I write this, I feel as light as a feather. Because this year, I finished filing my tax return over the course of three days. It’s a record for me. Sure, I still had time for an emotional cry, a couple of yelps of frustration at HMRC’s seemingly deliberate opacity when it comes to language, and a short interlude of maniacal laughter at a few of the questions. But still. THREE DAYS. There is only one thing I can attribute that to. It’s this bad boy:
I am in love with my filing cabinet. I mean, I’ve always been pretty organised about certain things. I have bank statements that go back to 2005 (way before I was a proper freelancer i.e. way before it was strictly necessary), I check my receipts against statements every few months (no need, I just enjoy the ‘belt-and-braces’ approach to life) and I am unofficially the family’s Memory-Keeper – birthdays, anniversaries, all that jazz. But this filing cabinet has truly, finally allowed every single anal retentive urge in me to flower. No category is too small to warrant a file of its own, no letterhead too trivial to be saved and alphabetised. I am in organisational heaven. It is repetitive, calming and functional, giving the quiet contemplative peace of washing dishes, except my hands stay dry. I feel like I’m basically postponing therapy for, like, ten years.
Now, if only I could find a cure for my constant and persistent tardiness. IF ONLY.