Vogons are taking over the University. I shit you not. They withheld 1/3 of my paycheck in taxes, which they weren't supposed to do. I wanted my money back.
I started with the office that employs me, the Disabled Access Office.
They sent me to the Student Finance Office,
Who sent me to the International Affairs Office (where they orchestrate sleezy liasons with sultry South Americans),
who sent me to the Cash Office (yes, it really is called that),
who sent me to the General Finance Office (is any of this sounding redundant to you?),
who sent me to the Payroll Office.
Where I explained the story for the umpteenth time and asked what I needed to do. I won't bore you with the details of the three conversations I had with three different people who gave me three different answers ranging from simply "nothing" to "you need a national insurance number. to get that you have to call the IRS* office, ask if they can see you in person, if yes, make an appointment, and fill out these forms in triplicate."
"and that will help me get my taxes back?" i asked.
"Oh heavens no!" the man with the gooey eyes said. "That has nothing to do with taxes."
Never mind that i began that conversation with "HOW DO I GET MY TAXES REFUNDED???"
I left before the poetry started.
*whatever the british equivalent of the IRS is. i forget. i hope i never know.
But i'm in a good mood. I had a teriffic evening last night. Ian was lovely. Very quiet kind of guy. Very calm. Motormouth that i am i had to stop myself occasionally to let him get a word in edgewise. he's not the type to just leap in to a conversation. he waits for it to be passed to him. So i need to be more sentisitve to that. He's intelligent, thougthful, laid back, SKINNY (oh my lord i'm pretty sure i could bench press him), and pleasant. The worst thing I have to say about him is that he slouches. Absolutely appalling posture. I don't know if that signifies anything (H-C?). We have the same taste in beer. That's gotta be a good sign. And we're definately going out again. Whee! So life is, for the most part, good.
10 comments:
good news about ian! the might of the jello llama is proven once again. no no, no thanks needed...hands across the waters and all that.
bad news about the Vogon witholding bs.
but please, miss, whats a Vogon? (sounds like the prion responsible for fahrfergneugen.)
First of all, FN, the llama on the verge of climax is about the funniest/sickest thing i've ever seen. Cheers for passing it on!
Now, to your question. The Vogons are an alien species in Douglas Adams's The Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy. They are not evil, but are deeply, fundamentally bureaucratic, and their poetry will kill you. I highy recommend that you read THGTTG (it's a hilarious read - you really will love it), or barring that, watch the movie. The 2005 realease is OK, the original BBC version from 1980whatever is even better.
oh, and by the way, farfegneugen is a real german word. there's no direct translation, but it essentially means a wonderful driving experience.
he slouches? oh dear. Very bad...very very very bad... Skinny he may be now but he'll have a paunch by the time he's 40...
sorry CB only joking...I don't think that I've ever been out with a guy who has bad posture (or if I have it was obviously so traumatic that I've blocked it out)...bad breath - yes, bad attitude - yes, bad hair - yes, bad manners - yes but no bad posture...
Your going this one on your own...
He has a brain, he's not fat and he likes beer?
Sounds pretty damn good to me...
Update: we've got the next TWO dates planned! Next thursday we're going hiking (walking really) in the afternoon, and the thursday after that he's taking me to a concert of Irish folk music at the George. Details will follow, natch.
You ain't getting your taxes back hun. You're working for the University institution ergo you are being paid to do a job by someone ergo they automatically take tax off you at source. What you need to do is ring your local tax office and sort out your tax code. You're losing so much in tax because it sounds like right now you've been put on an emergency tax code. (Although a third of the money you've earned being ripped off you by the government will sound about right to those of us in regular employment). Get the right tax code for your status and your job. Make sure the payroll department is given this. Pay your taxes. If you earn less than the personal allowance threshold (4700 pounds) in any given year, you will be eligible for a tax rebate. But only after you've paid it will they consider giving it back to you. Good luck. They're bastards. They really, really are.
herbe is right. It does sound like you were on an emergency tax code. If you look on the Inland Revenue site then you can find out your local tax office based on the tax code printed on your payslip. Give them a ring and they'll sort it out for you pretty quick - they usually do. I disagree with herebe over them being bastards, when I was temping I had to do this several times and they were always very quick.
Worth checking your nat ins. number too as it sounds like you've been misinformed as to where you get it sorted out. I'm pretty sure that its not the tax office. Jgirl had to apply for a nat ins numb (being american as well) and I do remember that it was a division of the Dept of Work and Pensions she got it from. Might be worth while giving them a ring too. Your NI number is very important.
As to the dates...well I think that your pretty much in uncharted territory here...I can't help with either of those scenarios but I expect a full report.
That's "Fahrvergnügen". Not that it really makes any difference.
Those pesky Bristol Uni types sometimes take tax off a random selection of my department's postgrads paychecks. I think it's got something to do with a box on a form that you may or may not have ticked several years ago. Who knows. But it all depends on how much money you make in total in a year doesn't it?
Welcome, johanna.
Thanks for correcting my spelling of farfignewton. I knew it was wrong, and and was perfectly capable of looking it up, but I'm an academic, which means I can't be bothered with such things as details and accuracy.
And I guarantee I won't make enough money by the end of the year to owe any taxes. Remember the poor Oxford scholar pilgrim in the Canterbury Tales? Geoff based that character on me. (The one upside to having a torrid, abusive love affair with a great artist is that at least I get to be indirectly immortalized.)
Post a Comment