I like to think I’m a relatively intelligent and organised person. I keep my receipts, file my invoices and generally keep an eye on my finances. So filling in my tax return should be a doddle, right?

A few weeks back I registered to complete it online, activated it and filled in half the pages, then, realising I wasn’t sure I was doing it right, saved all the pages and booked myself onto one of the Government’s free Self Assessment courses.

The course was excellent, and with so, reassured that I knew what I was doing I returned to the Government’s online gateway and logged in.

Only, I couldn’t find my way back into the Self Assessment section. In fact, the screen stated I didn’t have access to it and suggested I register for online services.

Which I thought I had already done.

Bewildered, I phone up the online helpdesk, who told me in no uncertain terms that I had clearly de-registered myself and needed to start again from scratch. I was almost in tears by this point, and politely asked how I could have managed that, to which they had no answer.

So, unable to do anything else, I reregistered and am now waiting for another activation code to reach me.

Only, I just received an email with the subject line “Please remember to complete your tax return.”

When I opened it up, it stated: “We note that you have not yet submitted the Self Assessment Tax Return that you started to complete using our online service. Please remember that you must submit your tax return on or before 31 January 2010.”

What?!? When I phoned them to find out what had happened to the form I’d begun to complete, they claimed it had never existed, and now they’re emailing me to ask why I haven’t finished completing it.

Well, the answer is probably because I was told it doesn’t exist.

Turns out it takes a lot more than intelligence and organisation to complete a tax return, especially when the Government who are asking me to do it seem hell-bent on making it as confusing as possible.

Government: 1; Judy: nil

I love this time of year. Despite the cold weather that nearly snapped my nose off when I went out earlier, there’s something about all the sparkle and shine, the bright smiles on shoppers faces (note: this was at 10 this morning - they’re probably a bit grumpier now), the decorated trees (ours is a glittery black faker bought in Woolworth’s closing down sale last December), and all those promising presents balanced beneath it.

Frankly, I’ve turned into an over-excited kid, and the soothing carols oozing in off Classic FM are only making me fizz harder.

Christmas bauble © Julian Cenkier

The one thing I usually miss at this time of year as a freelancer is the buzz of a pre-Christmas office. The world of publishing is slightly unusual in that it firmly shuts down from Christmas to New Year, so deadlines are crazy, everyone’s overworked, but no one’s complaining because they know they’re about to wallow in at least nine days off. Tins of fancy chocolate biscuits, mince pies and festive chocs do the rounds, and tinsel creates a cheery fire-hazard around computer monitors.

This year I’ve had the chance to appreciate it in full thanks to a few days subbing at a publishing house in Cheltenham, a mere 40-minute train ride from my house in Bristol. I’ve loved every moment of it, despite having to leave my house when it’s still dark and returning home when it’s dark again.

Cheltenham is a very pretty town that comes into its own at Christmas time. As www.britainexpress.com succinctly puts it: “The town is resplendent in Regency terraces of cream-white houses and wrought-iron railings.”

With lofty Christmas trees and tasteful fairy lights twinkling in each window, the town is even more elegant and enticing, with bright baubles and Advent candles adding to the glow.

Previously I’ve only ever been to Cheltenham when the literature festival is on, but now I think I’ll go there more often, and if the opportunity comes up to work there again, I won’t hesitate to say yes.

© Eric Feldman

When working as a freelance writer, there’s always the issue of balance. The issue between work and play, between home time and work time, between paying the gas bill and not paying the gas bill…

Working from home means that boundaries get blurred and I sometimes discover I’ve inadvertently worked a 12-hour day. Even when there’s no paying work available (which happens more often than I’d like!), there’s always EssentialWriters.com to focus on, or the art book I’m collaborating on, or the novel I’m mid-way through, or the many proposals to send out for the novel I’ve completed.

Oh, and then there are the endless pitching of ideas to magazines and websites, and short stories to write and enter for writing competitions or submit to literary mags, all of which takes time and effort, but in chunks so small that they’re akin to erosion. Before you know it, the entire day is gone and the cliff has collapsed.

But the finest balance to master is that with regards to the features that pay well, and the features with benefits. For example, in the past two weeks I’ve received two commissions, both of which pay but on vastly different scales.

One was on a subject I knew nothing about, which required lots of research and constant communication with specialists in Scandinavia. I knew I’d learn masses through writing it, and the pay was well over £200. I accepted the commission.

The second, however, paid well under £100, but was on a subject I knew well – pampering – and would involve research that included an afternoon at a spa being gently massaged into semi-consciousness. Mwahhh…

So half the money, but also half the effort plus a heavenly afternoon I would never have felt justified in paying for myself. I accepted that commission too.

It’s the same with travel writing. It’s a genre that very rarely pays well, but results in some fabulous trips to places I might never otherwise have seen.

So it’s always about balance and money is only a small part of the equation. Apart, of course, from the opinion of the gasman.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a PGC networking event at Holland House Hotel in Bristol.

Previously I’ve only ever attended networking events aimed specifically at journalists, and it was interesting to meet so many people from so many different sectors, all with tips and advice to share.

One of the first things I learnt was the value of introducing what you can offer, rather than your name, rank and number. So instead of saying: “Hi, I’m Judy, I’m a freelance writer and editor, and I write for all sorts of websites and magazines…” I found myself listening to other people talking about the websites they build and then saying: “That’s very interesting. How do you gain content for the sites? Because that’s the kind of thing I do…”

After the preliminary mingle we were ushered through to the main room, where a panel was ready to discuss pressing issues with us. Rather marvelously this began with Colin Butcher, the event organiser, asking us what we wanted covered, personalising it to our requirements.

The main concern was the financial challenges, or as one attendee called it, the need for ‘eating strategies.’ We were asked to consider how we find work, how we market ourselves and how we leverage our networks. LinkedIn was flagged up as a crucial tool, and made me vow to update my profile at the first opportunity.

One delegate reminded us that: “You are your brand. It’s how you dress, how you speak, the business cards you give out.”

I wriggled with shame when it was pointed out that the freebie business cards I’d found online were tantamount to saying you don’t think your brand is worth paying for. It was a good point, though, and I certainly agree that you need to present a professional image if you want people to see you as a professional, regardless of your field.

As social network sites such as LinkedIn and Twitter were discussed, suggestions began to fly, ranging from the importance of getting involved with professional forums to ensuring our CVs are laden with keywords.

It was encouraging to hear that all kinds of freelancers are finding it challenging at the moment, and to meet people with the same concerns. I gleaned lots of valuable tips about making connections with people, and some of them may even lead to paying work.