I am a procrastinator. For example, I was meant to write this last Thursday but have been putting it off until now (that’s not even true but I felt I’d disappoint if I didn’t go with the obvious “gag”). The reason I mention this is because I have been putting off doing my accounts. I don’t enjoy sorting my accounts because, not only am I a procrastinator, I am also incredibly disorganised. That’s not to say I’m not tidy, I am a very cottage-proud man, but I am disorganised when it comes to things that really matter e.g. accounts, time-keeping, life etc… As a disorganised person, my view of organised people is this – you only really get exited twice a year, don’t you? If it’s your birthday or Christmas, you get presents and you don’t know what’s in them until you unwrap them. It’s a brilliant feeling but you don’t get to have it that often. For disorganised people, we get that feeling continuously throughout the year because we’re always finding things that we thought we’d lost. It is like giving ourselves our own little surprise present!tips dan trik android
The added bonus of being disorganised is this: not only do I have to go through receipts for this tax year, I come across old ones that I just haven’t thrown away. It’s like having my own numeric diary. Admittedly, that is probably the most dull type of diary there is but it does make filing a little more interesting.
Take today. I took out a load of receipts for all the usual things you can give to your accountant – receipts for petrol, receipts for clothes, receipts for eating out (most of which, invariably, get thrown away by the accountant because you can’t claim for chicken and chips at 3am on a Saturday morning). It was in this pile that I came across a receipt from a few years back. It didn’t belong in the pile I was looking for, I should have thrown it ages ago, but there it was – the receipt from the first time my ex-girlfriend and I went for dinner together. We broke up nearly two years ago and all is well and good between us – we’ve both moved on and are happy – but just seeing that receipt again felt, well, nice. I thought fondly back to that day. We’d been out for a drink and had nipped into a quiet pub before going for something to eat. There were a few “rowdy” lads near us and one approached us at the bar. I’ll admit, I was a bit wary at first because here was I, on my own with an attractive woman, and there were they, drunk! I was just wondering what was about to happen when he came up to us and said, “Look at you two! You’re like the Posh & Becks of Real Ale!!!”. Understandably, my girlfriend was horrified! I, however, couldn’t have been more proud. I’m quite aware that I bear no resemblance to David Beckham in any way, shape or form but, even so, as a Yorkshireman this was right up there in the best moments ever! Becks was the David Beckham of Real Madrid but here was I, Al, the David Beckham of Real Ale!
I thought back to that moment whimsically (you know, like they tend to do in sit-coms when they’re moving house and find something from way back) and continued through my pile of paper. Besides all the boring stuff that was in there, there were a few other reminders of good times. There was the hotel bill from the place I stayed when my friends got engaged (they’re now expecting their first child together). There was a receipt for a yellow shirt I bought because I’d got a bit chubby and had outgrown all my usual shirts (funnily enough, that was amongst the 3am chicken and chips receipts. I hasten to add that, for a while now, I have been able to fit into those original shirts. In fact I’m wearing one now and it’s a bit loose, if anything… or, at least, not as tight) and there was a receipt for a tuxedo I’d hired for a night with friends. As I say, going through receipts was a bit like going through a diary of old times. I’d never have had this if I was organised (plus, it help me procrastinate a bit more).
As I was lost, mid-whimsy, I came across a receipt I didn’t recognise for something which I can’t remember buying. Actually, for something which I can’t understand why I would buy. It was a bit absurd. The receipt was this:
Lessons From Land Of Pork!?!?!? I didn’t even know there WAS a Land Of Pork!! Having just watched most of the World Cup, I am pretty sure that particular nation weren’t involved. Too busy giving lessons, I should imagine. Although, lessons in what? I have thought back to all the lessons that I have ever had and, not taking into account school lessons, I have had scuba-diving lessons, some lessons in trampolining and, of course, driving lessons. None of these were in any way related to pork. Interestingly, hidden amongst all my receipts, I found a handwritten recipe for pork pies from my Dad but I am pretty sure he just wrote that for me on a piece of paper. I certainly don’t think he sold it to a major chain of book stockists in order for me to buy it back. To cap it all off I am none the wiser about pork so not only have I bought something for £9.99 that I can’t remember buying, I haven’t heeded the lessons that it claims to have taught me. I know pork scratchings originated in the Black Country but that’s simply because I read it on the back of a packet not out of a book. And I only remember that because I was in a pub at the time, drinking some real ale in a stylish manner.
So, Here’s What I Have Learnt Today. If I was an organised person, I’d know what “Lessons From The Land Of Pork” was. I dare say it’s probably not as entertaining as I think it perhaps is. So that is why I don’t mind being disorganised, because you get that little added bit of fun in your life. As for procrastinating, well, I probably should get back to those accounts. Speaking of procrastinating, thank you for reading my blog – what should you really be doing? 😉