Stress. Friday March 4th, 2011

Steve was away in the States a couple of weeks ago at a love-in for the senior execs at his company. He came back to tell me about a session they had had on stress. Each delegate was handed a questionnaire and asked to honestly answer “yes” or “no” to a series of questions. These included ---

Do you wake up in the morning feeling tired?
Do you eat dinner but not taste it or care what it is?
Do you go to bed worrying about all the things that you haven’t done?
Do you find that you lack the time to do the things you enjoy?
Do you not have time for your family?
Do you find that you have to drink alcohol to help you sleep?
Do you feel irritable at trivial things?

And so on.

Steve answered yes to precisely zero questions and looked at the other execs around him who clearly had answered yes to most and were worried by the result.

Steve’s life is very uncomplicated. He has two things to worry about. His job – obviously - and his golf handicap. For everything else there is me to take the strain.

We decided long ago in our marriage that when I gave up work, he would be the wage earner and I would take on the task of trying to do everything else.

Moving house? When would I like the packers to come? Tax returns? Where does Steve sign them? Children, vacations, life- the universe- Steve needs it organized for him. Tell him where and when to turn up and he is fine. Ask him to organize anything outside of work and golf and he is lost.

There was an occasion a few years ago when we had to move from France to the United States very rapidly. We news came in in Mid August that we would be leaving in September. Let’s think about that. Two kids to get into private schools for the start of the school year. What’s the expression? The impossible is okay – miracles take a bit longer”. Okay, check that one off. Three days into the packing process, Steve calls from the office. It seems that we can’t leave France without filing out French tax returns. So do I have all the info to hand? Do I what????

Okay unpack a few boxes – check. Several hours of filing tax returns – check. Back to the packing.

See what I mean? For any wife who is clearly the power behind the throne, this blog is dedicated to you.

A couple of weeks ago, Steve announced that we had to file Brazilian Tax returns stating everything that we could lay claim to outside of Brazil. We got to work. Steve sat and entered the data whilst I supplied it. No mention was made of having to provide the paperwork to back this up, just a statement of how much and where.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. We were required to provide paper documentation of what there is and where it is. The email arrived on Friday afternoon and as we were leaving Saturday morning for a weekend away, we ignored it.

We got back on Sunday afternoon and Steve announced that he would “leave it to me to sort out on Monday”. I was out Monday morning and returned Monday afternoon to set about the task of finding the information and providing paperwork. Monday of course being the deadline for the accountants. It seems that the Government had brought forward the deadline by a few months.


I have long since given up having paper statements for such mundane things as bank accounts and investments, but obviously, the Brazilian tax authorities have yet to catch up with the eco- agenda. We were leaving Tuesday morning for a few days in the north of Brazil, but all this information had to be sorted that afternoon.

It took me six and a half hours of internet searches, downloading and printing. To say I was tearing my hair out was a slight understatement.

So when people say to me, “do you work?” my answer is always the same.

“Yes I do work – I just don’t get paid”.

As for my husband’s stress levels – nonexistent.