Living in Fear
In retirement I try not to stress, but there are occasions when I have no control over the dilemma presented. Tax Returns are one of my biggest bugbears, although I am relieved to say that I have today completed and submitted that due by 31st January. I don't understand why but, after double and triple checking, I always end up pressing "Send" with a foreboding sense of fear rather than relief. I'm not sure if I'm of a nervous disposition, an eternal pessimist or simply paying for a criminal history in a previous life. Regardless of the reason, my dealings with the Tax Office, which to give it its due is always very polite and helpful, are enough to instil a medieval fear of hellfire and brimstone.
Take for instance last month. At the end of November I received a letter saying that the tax return that I had signed on behalf of the eldest (who still resides in New Zealand) and had submitted in plenty of time for the deadline of 31st October could not be accepted because it was unsigned. In its wisdom HMRC had also helpfully enclosed a copy of the offending article, demonstrating clearly that it had indeed been autographed by yours truly.
There
followed a series of telephone calls to its customer
helpline. I've queued for what feels like an interminable period before
explaining the position to a friendly voice who proceeded to place me on
hold. The voice eventually returned, confirmed that the fault was not
mine and it would rectify it, promising that I would receive either
written or telephoned confirmation which I never did. So, I would ring again and the response was repeated as I became caught up in a never ending
cycle of déjà vu, all the while up against a written threat of a penalty for late filing.
None
of this should, of course, matter a jot when self righteous indignation
is on your side, but it does, because this was the Tax Office that I was
dealing with and those in authority can make me quake. It is an
unfounded, irrational fear for I have never fiddled my taxes, broken the
law and, for goodness sake, I don't even lie but none of that stops the
butterflies every time I make one of those calls.
Fortunately along with one of this year's delivery of Christmas cards, there was a little brown envelope finally acknowledging receipt and containing those three little words that bring joy to the heart: " No tax due."
Comments
Glad you poked the beast enough to get your written confirmation of what was correct all along. Of course, someone in another office could claim that note was sent in error...you do owe. Oh well, a topic for another post.
Happy New Year