Wednesday 12 August 2009

I Love Doing Tax Credit Stuff

No I don't. Not really, not at all. Today is about having so much fun and getting so much jolly stuff done that I don't notice I have slipped all my tax credit and child benefit updates in front of myself and am doing them. I aim to distract myself with Art, Music and Breakfast. I intend to dance from one exciting task to another, like a Disney Princess singing and smelling flowers in her garden, and when I realise I am on the phone to a nice lady at the Tax Office I will throw my delicate hands up in a gesture of utter surprise and say "Oh, my!" in an American accent.

That way I will not put off the dreary job of making myself up to date at the Benefits Office.

Then, I have two exhibitions to prepare for. One on Angels and one on Dying. I think I will have to have one end of the studio respectfully quiet and lots of white flowers and gentle church organ music playing on a loop, and the other end full of images of Angels doing the shopping, Angels in the bath, and harp/whale music on a loop. I will adjust my expression from soulful seriousness as I cross over the invisible dividing line, to beatific splendidness, and walk a couple of inches above the ground.

And later, at lunch time, I have sweet teeny (4'11) old family friend to stay. She is really 16 Year Old Son's friend, and is appropriately for any friendship with him, coming to stay for his advice. She will receive it. With bells on. And even later than that the Chief Exec is coming for a flying visit (Alan. Used to be a Chief Exec in the NHS and I see him as James Robertson Justice at all times in my imagination). The Chief Exec is very very busy, absorbed in high level Serious Case Reviews and can only come out to breathe when he can no longer remember who the current monarch is.

So, people. Oh, just noticed. On the list today is Tidy Desk. Ha. Spotted that one. On my desk under all the papers, is the Tax Credit Stuff. Thought I could fool myself there and sneak it in that way. Ha. Can't fool me.

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