I am a bad, hysterical, paranoid person.
Sally Social Worker had made a typo in her letter and meant January, not February. B spoke to her this afternoon and we have an appointment in a fortnight. She was considerately giving us space because she didn't know how long the medicals might take to arrange and it was a form letter.
I stand by my ranting about International police checks, though.
We have spent two hours closeted with Sarcastic Accountant this afternoon, with him patiently taking us through the personal tax stuff that needs to be submitted by the end of the month. I've also handed over all the day to day accounts to him now, so that he can keep on top of them during the year and doesn't have to spend an annual six weeks unpicking my podging together of twelve months worth of incomings and outgoings.
Me: So, Sarcastic Accountant, did you have a nice Christmas?
SA: Yes, thank you. Although we had a bit of a crisis with our daughter [who's two].
Me: [radiates intelligent interest]
SA: She was a bit worried about Santa coming in to the house.
SA: We met a man in a Santa suit while we were out shopping and we had to spend some time convincing her that Father Christmas wasn't a very bad man who smelt of cheap vodka.
In other news, I have been participating in a thread about designer vaginas (link NOT safe for work) on downsizer.net this afternoon. I have a question that I would like to put to you:
Why? Why would someone do that?
And for today, that is all.
Monday, 15 January 2007
accountants and designer vaginas