A Passage Of Time

I got my tax forms through this morning. A large letter saying ‘open immediately’ and upon opening then tells you you have till October to do it. There really is nothing like false urgency. Maybe they are worried that if it stays within the envelope for more than 20 mins on arrival it’ll explode or something. It could be that the Tax Office are far more covert than I thought and operate on a spy level with all sorts of secret self burning documents. Somehow I doubt it. And if they are doing such things then I demand to know why my taxes are being spent on such pointless use of exploding paper when it should only be utilised for secret documents rather than ones I need to fill in. Of course I doubt its my taxes paying for that. Mostly because last year I barely paid any thanks to the evidence that proved that doing Edinburgh meant I earned less than peanuts for an entire year, noting that monkeys who didn’t go to fringe were clearly investing more in the way of legumes than I was.

Layla noted that it wasn’t that long ago I did my last year’s taxes and she was wrong. It was almost exactly a year ago. Yeah I get them done way on time like a super geekoid. So what of it? What of it is, less about taxes, more about the fact that time is clearly speeding up. I’m not sure who did this or when, but its definitely getting faster in general. Various bits of evidence point towards this, including said tax letter, but also that I have spent the last few days reading through my old blogs for research (read ‘research’ as ‘hoping desperately there are funny stories I can mine’) and have spent almost every entry saying to myself ‘that was a whole year and a bit ago? No way.’ Yeah I say no way like a super geekoid. What of it? Add this to the fact that I keep hearing people say ‘I can’t believe its April already’, ‘how has it got to Spring so quickly?’ and ‘one minute ago it was 1851 and I was dancing with Queen Victoria, and now its the future.’ Admittedly the last one is only said by the loon who shouts outside our local Tesco Metro. But he still has a point.

What I think has happened is that every year when the clocks have gone forward, they’ve gone forward a little too much and we are being very rapidly propelled into the future. Yes. That’s definitely it. Or, more likely, I’m just getting old. My nan reckons time flies super fast every day for her, and she’s not really even having fun. Well that’s what she says. If I got to walk around in my slippers all day and watch TV I’d be fairly happy. Age it must be then. Which makes me sad. Why do I get less time now I’m older and busier. Days would last for ages when I was 7 and all I had to do then was paint a picture of a caterpillar, run around in my red wellies and play with Lego. Today is filled with a zillion things to do and yet I’ve done two of them and its somehow already 1pm. I might start a campaign here to add extra hours to the day. Sure those of you stuck in offices will hate me for such things, but maybe the law can only apply to those who need more time. Like dyslexics in exams. They get an extra half an hour, so I think similar rules should apply for those with lots to do in life. I shall write to the Time Lords and ask nicely.

Fat Tuesday was brilliant last night. Not as busy as usual thanks to Bank Holidays and stupidy football (Barce vs Arse), but the crowd we gathered were a true delight and every act was awesome. Much kudos to Helen Arney, Henning Wehn, Danny Ward and Sarah Kendall who were all excellent. Next one is in two weeks with Tony Law who is just brilliant. You should totally be there.