Another rotten night’s sleep punctuated by me waking up choking on my own vomit at just before 5am. Is this a stress symptom or caused by another underlying factor?
Meanwhile, I got my first rejection from an agent today for the book I am writing about my current woes. Possible titles: Fear and Loathing in Norfolk or How Not to Run a Business.
My accountant gave me the details of a VAT expert who may have some advice for me. I have emailed him the details of the case and await a response. Just realised that I’ve got less than a week to file my VAT return and somehow find the £8000 they might want from me. I can beg for mercy on the VAT advice line, but don’t fancy kow-towing to these bastards just yet.
Phone calls and emails and phone calls and emails and I am not clearer to knowing what is really going on. Everyone is on holiday, so you’ll just have to stall the VAT man and write him a letter telling him to wait. Wait a minute, the VAT man is on holiday too! Why aren’t I on holiday? Because I am a stupid twat…
I have now moved enough boxes to cut a path to my guitar cases, meaning that the squeaky beast awakens…shown for the first, my portable recording rig that I put together while in transit.