On Being A Benefit Scrounger

With our government being, shall we say, completely out of touch, more and more of late people like myself have been slapped with a great big tag of being "Benefit Scroungers" or similar.

In May of 2000 - after a few months of getting steadily worse. I was signed off of work. After a few months - once my Sick Pay was used up - I was officially moved onto Incapacity Benefit. A benefit that is deemed as a payment for someone that is sick, but with expectations of getting better.

Twelve years later, I am still getting Incapacity Benefit. I have diagnosis of Degenerative Spine, ME/CFS, Depression, and Anxiety - and the first two, the actual reasons I am properly poorly, are not filed under any section of "You're going to be fine, here's a cure"

Even with my own GP and now my CBT Specialist stating that yes I am ill and won't be "fixed" I am tarred with the stigma of being on benefits because it's easy, pays more than working, and I can live an easy life claiming money from "The Taxpayer"  No, to look at me - aside from a shitty day when I am hobbling around - I do not look sick. If I've had a few days of chilling out, I can chat and have a laugh and seem like a normal person, but after a couple of hours of leading a normal life, I am then wiped out for two or three days.

According to pockets of the population, I shouldn't be on benefits, I should go out and get a job.  "Get over it" and similar.

At no point have I sat here chuckling, watching people going out to work while thinking "Suckers! I get more than you!" You may notice that Kellie works... Why? Because being such a brilliant benefit scrounger, the money I get each week covers precisely shit. Even with her wage, we struggle to make ends meet some months.

But yes, being on benefits is SO much easier. I'm not going to go into how I feel on a daily basis - you can read it in posts like this one and get an understanding of my daily life. I would love to work. I would love to be able to get up in the morning (for starters) and get ready, sort kids out, get to work, spend the day working, get home, sort dinner and the house, and so on. HOWEVER. You find me an employer that is going to be willing to get a call from me saying I can't get my socks on in the morning because my body won't move properly. Or an employer that will accept after three or four hours, I will need to go home and collapse in bed with a handful of meds - not to mention, require the following three or four days off because I can't move or function.

And while we're on the subject of meds, find me a boss that will be willing for me to be IN work, take a handful of meds at half ten in the morning, and spend the next four or five hours spaced out, unable to focus and struggling to stay awake. And I don't mean "I get tired" but I nod off regardless of what I am doing - even if I am stood up.

And let's not forget the time off every few weeks to go to my therapy appointment, or to see my GP about tweaking my meds...

I am so sick and tired of being labelled a benefit scrounger, but I retort with: FIND me this employer. FIND me a job in IT or Customer Service that is prepared for me to be one day then off sick for two or three days.

This government has managed to convince so many people in the country that someone on Benefits is probably not entitled to receive them, everyone is now sure people like me are lazy, scrounging, skiving, cheats, lying about a disease or illness or whatever in order to get money for doing nothing.

And who do the government employ in order to examine people like me? Do they send in health care professionals, trained in the ailment that is troubling someone? Do they consult with the doctor that has been trying to sort it for a dozen years? Do they contact the specialist in the area  to find out how I am affected?

Do they f$ck! They send in people that have a list of questions to ask, a series of "Bend this body part" or "Move this body part" with no understanding of mental health, physical problems or anything else - and they base their WHOLE decision on this one forty-five minute meeting... In 45 minutes, they can tell that I am actually healthy and there's nothing wrong with me. Sod the reams and reams of paperwork at the doctors office they could look at. Sod page after page of therapist meetings. Sod the actual letter from the ACTUAL specialist that states what's wrong and how I am affected daily... No no, 45 minutes is all it takes to reinforce the Benefit Scrounger  label.

I wish I was healthy. I wish someone would give me a job. I wish people would stop looking at me, telling me I don't look sick, I need to get over it, that they pay for me to be lazy and so on.

I am so sick of it. Sick to the teeth of it. Of the labels, the looks, the idiot determining that I am actually healthy, of surviving on f$ck-all money, and mostly, I am sick of feeling like this ALL the time.

As an example - today, I had to have my boiler serviced, so I've been in knots screwing over someone I don't know coming into my house and pulling something apart. I've written a Musical Monday post. I've written this post. I've listened to music.

And yet, I have done too much, I am in agony, stressed out and totally miserable with it all. Find me an employer that will deal with someone in a state like I am, sobbing in pain and stress - but I can't take any meds for another two hours.

But yeah, I'm fine, nothing wrong with me. I'm just a Benefit Scrounger.

To Coin A Phrase (Sorta) Pt. Two

(Part The Second) So, aside from Heart-Attack Sherlock doing her thing, what else has been going on in Chez 0ddness? Well, as a small point, it has been the school Summer Holidays here, which can only mean one thing. Well, two actually...

One, Kellie suddenly finds more overtime to do at work, and Two, the kids are present for six and a half weeks, full time.

Are the two linked? I believe they might be, and if memory serves, the same phenomenon occurred last year too...

Hmmm...

So anyway, this year wasn't quite so bad, in that I didn't actually get blinded by my son. All good so far. In addition to this, we were down one child the whole holiday - on Day One of the holidays, we took Dom into London and threw him on a train to Devon, where he was met at the other end by Kellies brother. This wasn't just an exercise in child abuse, no no, Dom had arranged to work in their pub for the duration of the holidays to get himself some cash.

Because he's a tart that loves him some brand names on his pants or something.

But I digress.

With Dom safely left in the care of a stranger driving a large lump of metal, we decided that us (Kellie and I) would take the remaining kids (three) and the 0dd Mother In Law to see the relatives of the latter... Or, rather, we went to the natural history museum to look at the dinosaurs.

Now, on our list of "Things That Are Probably Not That Smart" this ranked in quite highly, mainly because we were in Jolly ol' London the weekend before the start of the Olympic Games.

Oops.

To say it was "a weeny bit busy" was an understatement, and as the day wore on, more and more people seemed to arrive not only in London, but within the vicinity of standing on my feet.

The tubes were packed (much to the joy of the walking panic-attack that is Kellie) and the museum was heaving with people (it took 45 minutes just to get in!), and apparently everyone wanted to see the relatives of the 0dd Mother in Law as much as we did. And most people seemed to decide that using my FOOT was the best way to get a good view.

I admit, I nearly threw some people into the jaws of the dinos.

And that was just the first weekend!

During the holidays, we alternated between one childs (Molly), or three childs (The aforementioned Molly, plus Jaysen & Tamsyn), and every now and then, one would be off elsewhere, or two would be off out... Throughout the entire six-weeks, we had ONE child-free night, and that was on the last weekend!

Otherwise, we did plenty... We went to nature days at Wat Tyler, we spent time at the lakes, we played at our stream, we wandered over Langdon Hills, we went to see friends and family here and there, we had a few nights out too...

Time, however, was just not on our side, and everything we wanted to do was just not possible... Between me having to make sure I was able to do stuff, or Kellie conveniently working, or - and the biggest hurdle of them ALL - the weather being completely and utterly shite... Our to-do list, while having many things crossed off, was not completed once again.

The weather was f$cking awful though - it rained pretty much the entire time, dry days were actually just "It's going to rain at any minute" days, and while we DID manage a few nice days, they were few and far between.

O-o-oh! And we had a couple of barbecues, during which I was in charge of the FIRE each time. And NO ONE received any medical help, bandaging or anything... I didn't even set fire to myself.

Though, I did get an awful burn on the first weekend, but that was a pan handle left over a flame that I grabbed.

Ow.

And there you have it, another manic summer holiday for us lot... I won't cover the mosquito bites, the exploring dark tunnels, the "we're not lost, we just don't know where we are" walkabout, or any other shenanigans that might have occurred...

Not in this post, anyway ;)

Confessions of a Paper Boy

For the last few weeks and months, I have been doing a paper-round. Originally, it was Dominics, but he got hacked off with it, but I kept doing it anyway for the little (teeny tiny!) extra bit of money each week.

Over the weeks and months of doing it, I have been gritting my teeth, putting my head down and plugging away at it, but now, finally, something has snapped and I've told them enough is enough.  The reasoning?

Well...

First up, you need to keep in mind that this is a "kids" job. You also need to remember, this is the free papers, so people don't pay for them and every house gets one unless they specifically state "no free papers". Delivery is once a week, usually Thursday but I generally did it Friday morning.

Each week, 225 papers were delivered the front door, and usually multiple leaflets were added to the pile in multiples of 225 - two or three leaflets (450/675/etc) at a time. These leaflets had to be put together, and then added to the papers.

Time taken? Just putting leaflet in papers was about 60-90 minutes.

After that, the papers then had to be loaded into the trolley and then dragged around the streets. Generally, that many papers didn't fit in one load into the trolley, so 150 or so papers with 150/300/450 leaflets were then dragged around and delivered door to door to door. Once the trolley was empty, it was a case of walking all the way back home - remembering where you've gotten to - and then reloading the trolley and going BACK again, and finishing up.

This is generally a two hour job in itself, so between leaflet sorting, packing and delivering, I'd be looking at three and a half hours or so. 

The pay? VERY rarely more than £10. OK granted, this was "Kids Wage" but the reasoning behind the wage was that the job took an hour.

These time frames I've given are ME doing it, and I don't knob around or anything, I just get it done and dusted.

But you know what, it's not even the length of time versus the pay. I did it mainly for the exercise. But I draw the line at rude people.

And you know what, the world seems to be populated with people that moan and whine and bitch at someone for something either out of their control or something so minor, you would expect someone like that to have a coronary watching the news.

Cases in point...

My Paper Is Wet!
Yes, that's because rain or shine, I have to deliver a shit-ton of newspapers. So, when I take a paper off the top in the rain, it might be a little damp. By the time I've folded it and stuffed it through your letterbox, it will have gotten damper. Your paper, the paper before you, the paper after you - ALL damp. I've not done it intentionally, it's the RAIN. This also leads me on to;

My Paper Is Torn!
If your paper has gotten damp (see previous) then sliding through a metal or plastic letterbox is going to split some of the paper. Also, if your letterbox doesn't open properly, or if you are one of these bloody people that HAS to have a letterbox lined with stiff bristles, even DRY paper will get torn in that. The other cause of torn paper?

You Let My Dog Rip Up The Paper!
OK, I don't check each house or door for a mutt. If you DO have a dog that shreds things going into the house, put up a sodding sign. If you don't want your dog to shred it either A) Keep the dog away from the front door, or B) Put up a letterbox guard. I don't post the paper with the intention for your dog to shred it up. No sign, no notice, the paper goes in and Spot the Dog has a paper lunch

You Stepped On My Grass!
Yes, I did, and you know why? Because your letter box is so far off to the side it's either step on your grass or levitate above your lawn and deliver it.

You Looked In My Window!
Just because my head is facing your door - you know, where your letterbox is - it does not mean I am trying to peer in and see what is in your house. If I am peering in YOUR house, then the other 224 houses also need to be warned.

I Don't Want The Leaflets!
The leaflets are part of the paper. You want the paper, you have to have the leaflets. You're not obliged to receive the paper, just say "Please don't deliver it any more" and like magic, the paper and leaflets from the paper will stop.

I Don't Want The Paper!
Now, my previous point stated that if you don't want it, just say politely that you don't, in fact, want it any more. Leaving a shitty note? I'll carry on delivering it intentionally. Throw your paper outside your front door? Yep, still going to deliver it. I'm a spiteful shit. If you ask nicely that you would like me to stop delivering, then fair enough, I will make a note and stop.

In future, please consider your paper-person. He or She is delivering in sweltering heat, freezing cold, strong winds, ice, pissing rain... That trolley or that bag they are lugging is heavy and there's a good chance they have to make a second journey yet. Be nice, be polite, don't be rude. They get paid a pittance, and have to put up with a lot of rude, arrogant and generally grumpy people, just to deliver your free newspaper.

Cat Released From Bag

A week or two back, between being busy, stressed and blinded, you may recall I alluded to something going on here that was a bit of a big change.

I'm not going to go into too much detail, but the general basics of it is this.. I am trying to get back into work, and have started a little ball of snow rolling down a big hill in a hope that within the next couple of weeks, I can start a training course.

The job is working from home, and is very flexible.  I will have to do a minimum of twenty hours a week, but I can chose the time in blocks of thirty minutes between 7am and 11pm, Monday to Saturday.  It's a Customer Services job too, which I KNOW, and I will be counted as Self Employed.

I've been sitting on it and going through everything about it for a few weeks now, and would have started things sooner had my son not attempted to remove my eye. I've got a friend that does it, so she has been getting a constant barrage of questions, emails, queries and everything else from me on a regular basis.  Luckily for me, she's happy to help, and has been providing me with all the information I need, links, documents and everything else.

The hardest part is the actual set up... I have had to submit myself to a Background Check (to make sure I'm not a murderer or something I suppose!) - which I passed.  I've had to fill out forms, submit a three-minute voice recording of me talking about me, I've had a twenty-minute phone interview, I've had to dig out old job information stuff from previous employers... And Friday, I had to sit the Entry Exam. It was a self-paced course, 20-30 hours of study spread of 7-10 days, followed by an exam with a two hour time limit, which you could take a maximum of four times.

After eight to ten hours of study and doing the exam in twenty minute, I passed first time on Friday afternoon.

I now have to join another company instead of setting myself up as a Limited Company, wait for the opening I want, do that training course, and away I go... The one I wanted I missed literally by two days, but apparently it opens up all the time every couple of weeks.

I'm really hoping it all comes together and takes off.  Kellie has been the most supportive and understanding person on the planet, but she's also been my hand-holder throughout... I didn't want to see it, jump in and just go for it - I needed her to take the step back and look at it from the angle of someone from the outside, and ask me questions about it that I might not have thought about. She has been there when I've been blabbering on about it, she's been there when I've gotten cold feet, she's been there when the panic set in because I had to do something...

Because it's a Customer Service job, there's a few more things I need to sort out - a separate phone line and broadband account, a separate computer (which will probably just be a hard drive I swap in and out for work), a proper "Office Phone" and headset...

As I'm going to be Self Employed, I will also have to sort out my own National Insurance and Taxes, but our local tax office does free courses on Self Assessment. The other bonus is that all the expenses I am paying out count as business expenditure, and change my taxes for the better.

NOW I'm rambling... As I have been for the last week when talking to Kellie about it.

Why now? Well, Kellie has now gone part time in her job, and while we're still OK for money and stuff, a few extra pounds every month - and the pay is GOOD - will make thing even better.  Plus, saving for a wedding isn't cheap, plus Kellie has her arty-crafty hobbies that she's hoping will take off and try make some money from it - she's already got people ordering a years-worth of cards, even from someone in Dubai!

Our main conversation has been Kellie telling me not to take it if it's JUST for the money. We used to get by on a quarter of what we have now, so it's not like we're struggling. I WANT extra money - I want to be able to get Kellie driving, to take the kids out for the day, to go on weekend breaks without worrying about where next weeks bill money is coming from, to save for our wedding, and have a better quality of life for all of us.

I've been "Off Sick" for ten years. I still pop to the shops one day, and then spend two days trying to recover. My doctor has said recently that I should qualify for Disability without any issues at all, so that's another route that is being chased this month as well. But on the other side of the coin, I am SICK of people looking at me like I'm a little bit of something brown on their shoe when I say "I've been on Incapacity for the better part of a decade" thanks to the various governments making it seem that those of us claiming Incapacity are all benefit frauds, scroungers and liars.

I feel bad that Kellie has to go out and work while I stay home, I feel bad that the kids want or need something and we have to tell them no, I feel bad that I can't just pick everyone up and go out for a meal somewhere, and this job can fix all that.

I am, however, being very very careful.  You will notice for one I've not named any names at all.  And I'm not going to.  I'm also not counting my kittens before they've hatched.  I may well start the course and it'll all go pear-shaped and I won't pass. Lots of little speed bumps are in the way before I can say "Yes, I am working!"

The next course is a daily thing, six weeks of Monday to Friday evenings, no absence allowed or you fail. So it does mean that weeknights are going to be on hold for me till mid-late-November, and that Kellie will have to do bedtimes for the kids (mwhahaha!) but assuming I pass, I can start work straight away and book my hours as I need to. Contractually, I will have to do a minimum of twenty a week, with at least two hours on both Monday and Saturday, but that is really no hardship. Once the kids are in school, I will have the day to myself, so can do 0930 till 1500 Monday-Wednesday, 1000-1400 Thursday-Friday, and then four or five hours on a Saturday - that's 24-25 hours straight off.  If we want a bigger pay packet, then I can do evenings as well, and Kellie has already said that, while it might cut into time with her or the kids, it will mean the other time we have together will be BETTER as we can do things that we want to do.

I am excited, but I am also very very nervous. I've not been in a workplace for ten years... Granted, I'm not going to "a workplace" with the new job, but still. Nerve-wracking stuff.

As I said, I am keeping my hopes at a low simmer - I don't want to assume I'm going to ace it all, assume I'm going to get everything done, dusted and sorted, and assume it will be plain sailing.  But I AM hopeful. I can do this - if I can work in the Telewest call centre (especially on the day and following months after taking over the London Franchise, WOW was that stress to the nth degree!), I can do ANY customer service job.

Thanks to everyone that offered advice to me week-before-last on Facebook when I was asking about grants and what-not - I was hoping to get some help with the start-up costs, but it looks like I'm just going to have to do it all one bit at a time. It's not a lot of money, but it's money that could be spent elsewhere. Again, it's just a case of baby steps and doing each thing as it needs doing... I need to get an office phone, a headset, a phone line/broadband install and a new hard drive for the computer (because their Workstation Requirements are actually quite amusing, even though I can understand the need for security and safety for clients data), but again, one thing at a time.

PLEASE keep everything crossed that this goes as smoothly as I hope it does... I will post more about it under the "work" label when I know more about what's happening.

The Worlds Most Boring Job?

There are some boring jobs in the world.  I should know, I have trained as an accountant, and I've even attached the discs to the front of computer magazines in a warehouse.

But then, there are jobs that you think might be cool, only to realise after a few nanoseconds of thought that, in all actuality, are boring enough to make you want to throw yourself under a train.

Which is ironic, in this case.

Last week, as you may recall, we had to go to the hospital to have my eye checked.  On the way back, we jumped on the first train we saw, and - obviously - it was the wrong one, so we had to change at Pitsea.  Pitsea is a station known for being grotty. It's old looking, it has lots of dark nooks and crannies for murderers to lie in wait, and generally, needs the kiss of life, let alone the remodelling which is it currently undergoing.

So, we're sat on a bench waiting for our train to put in an appearance, and I notice a man on the next bench along.  He's wearing full-body High-Visibility clothing, so screaming to be noticed. Added to this, he's wearing a hard hat.

Ten feet from where we are sitting.

At the very very far end of the platform - which is a pretty fair distance - are similarly-dressed men doing whatever it is they are doing on/beside the tracks.  I assume the man on the bench beside us is on a break. He's sat but kinda stretched right out like he's about to go to sleep at a forty-five degree angle, hands up behind is helmeted-head, a tool-belt discarded by his feet, and has a newspaper sticking out of his pocket.

Fifteen minutes later, the train on the opposite side to where we are comes around the corner in the distance. The Yellow Man springs to action.  Well, I say springs. He reaches down and from his tool belt pulls out a horn (not of the animal variety) and proceeds to let off a long toooooooooot. At the same time, he waves a little flag in the air.

Then it hits me.  He's watching out for trains to warn the other Yellow Men that they're all about to DIE.  Now, consider that the trains are once every thirty minutes, this man is sitting still for 29 minutes and 45 seconds, then toooooooooting his horn and waving his flag.

It was like the worlds shittest parade.

Surely, honestly, in this day and age, when there are so many electrical, intelligent, data-collecting tools and gadgets out there, the need for a man with a horn and a flag are gone?! I refuse to believe that there is nothing that can do a job in the same manner.  If we're all so willing to let traffic lights direct us not to crash, alarms to tell us we're about to die of some poison or another - not to mention the countless items that can be used to keep people alive and what-have-you, surely there must be a better way than have a reeeally bored man do fifteen seconds of work every thirty minutes?!

As an aside, you also have to chuckle at the Health & Safety aspect of it as well - the fact he was on the platform with the rest of us Normals, yet had to wear High Visibility clothing AND a Hard Hat, AND work boots.  It's the same for the bus drivers at the main station down the road.  When they get off their bus, they have to wear High Visibility vests... While walking through the bus station that the rest of Basildonia is currently walking through. 

Yes, the strangest things make it as blog posts.  My brain is an interesting yet complex machine.

Occasionally.

All Over The Place...

Warning: This post is long, moaning and whiny.

You may have noticed, that, aside from a couple of stroppy moaning posts, 0ddness has been fairly quiet for a goodly amount of time.  I DO have excuses, I am moody, angry, pissed off, sad, busy...

When I say "We've not stopped of late" I am so NOT over-exaggerating.  Everything has been a constant had graft for the last few weeks, and it was either a constant stream of pissed off or depressing blog posts, or to just step away from it and take a breath.

Things are STILL all over the place, but none the less...

The biggest shitter of the moment would be the loss of Arwen, the little cat I had gotten Kellie a couple of years back.  We were sat curled up on the sofa watching TV one night a few weeks back, when someone knocked on the door and asked if we owned a little black and white cat.  I knew what was next, and looked past her, and saw her lying in the road.

As Kellie put on on her status, she might not have been the full ticket - just search "Arwen" on here and find pictures of her being an idiot - but she was a wonderful cat, quite probably the most loving one I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.  She grew up on Canvey, and the road she lived on, the traffic stopped for her.  Long Riding is a busy road, and it was dark, and, well, I dreaded the day.

I KNOW there are those of you out there that are thinking to yourself "It's just a cat" and that might be true.  But she was brilliant and will be very missed.

Just a week before she died, we were talking about getting her a little friend, but weren't sure what we should do - obviously we didn't want to just "replace" Arwen, but the house just seemed strange without her running about doing cat-things.  A week later, I went out to look at a few litters of kittens, and through no fault of my own, returned with *cough*two*cough* kittens for Kellie...

We WERE going to call them Katrina & Gustav, after the hurricanes that hit the USA, but they just don't seem to be sticking...  So, currently, they remain nameless, but ARE very cute:

So, that is that section of the interesting things...

On a personal level, I am having lots of problems, thanks to both lack of sleep, and an abundance of pain.  I am constantly very tired, cranky, I feel sick, I have a near-constant headache, I've got a sore throat (I suspect I've got a cold kinda sorta trying to push its way out), my hands hurt, plus the tiredness is making me paranoid and worry over the most stupid of things.  I find myself questioning everything, but when I try to vocalise it, I just sound like a whiny little boy, so don't.  I do what I do best, put on a smile, suck it up and try to just get on with life and put a shiny façade on the outside.

Ideally, I need to get back to the GP and tell him that, while I didn't have too many issues on the Amytriptyline, they stopped doing anything after a couple of weeks.  No pain relief, no help sleeping, nothing.  So on Friday morning, I am going to phone Mr Doctor Man and get an appointment.  Jaysen & Tam are going back to their mum Thursday, Dom is going to his nan Thursday night, leaving Molly here.  Kellie has Friday off (hopefully, assuming her boss/friend in work is in with her broken wrist!) so I can pop out and not worry about bored kids being, well, bored.

On the work-front, Kellie has had some good news, which is something.  The place she currently works - which is owned by Kerrys dad - is having a jiggle... Kellie was there while Kerry was up the duff and then dealing with a newborn, but at the beginning of September, she is going back to work, meaning Kellies job would be over.  However... And bare with me on this... Christopher, one of the asbestos analysts, has taken a job elsewhere.  Kerry recently passed her asbestos-analysis-type-exam, and so she is going back to work but in Christophers place.  With the system they work on being overhauled, Kerrys job, which was full-time, is now going part time.  Kellie was saying a few weeks back that she loves the job, but isn't sure she loves full time work as she misses the kids... But now Kerrys job is part time, and Kerry is changing, that leaves her job open - which means Kellie can carry on what she is loving, flexible part time, with the people she loves working with.

Clear as mud?

In short, Kellie is staying in her job, with less hours (that we want, as I miss her too!) and doesn't have to go through the rigmarole of job hunting.

Flowing from current jobs to previous, Gimme Gizmo, you will be happy to hear, will see all their blog posts back, as I have found a new host thanks to James, hosted in Germany.  And you know what they do?  They PROTECT free speech AND their customer.  So as soon as the Domain is shifted away from Namesco - who do not support their customers - and to the new company in Germany, then all the original Gimme Gizmo/DRW posts will return to the world.

A boost to my ego/confidence today, however, came from my diet.  I know I have the diet blog, and I admit I have been lax in updating it of late thanks to how busy everything is... Last week, thanks to a combination of eating out, a take-away, and feeling poorl, I had my first weight gain since starting the diet.  Granted, it was only a pound, but it pissed me off, and made me work harder this week.

Perhaps I worked a little too hard maybe, as even with a pizza I NEEDED during the week, I managed to take off seven and a half pounds!!  Needless to say, the girls at Slimming World threatened to push me down the stairs (all in jest, I should add), but I was very chuffed.  Today, I reached my two-stone-lost goal, and have now officially lost 10% of my starting body weight.  In ten weeks.

Not too shabby.

Otherwise, there is all the stuff I am not posting on the blog.  Other stuff that is hitting the fan and just causing stress and stuff, that I am not posting so they can't throw stuff at us.  Not yet, anyway. Depriving them of ammunition, would be the best description.

The WORST part of this shit-storm, is the negative affect it is having on Kellie, and the fact that I am can do precisely nothing to help her.  I HATE feeling useless, I HATE not being able to do something to make it better, to fix it... So Kellie is having a shit time of late, and all I can do is hold her hand and be there for her.

I know that everything seems worse as I am so damn tired, and I am sure some of you are reading this thinking "Well, there are worse things..." but it's all just on top of me right now, so hopefully by blogging it out of my system, I'll be able to put things into perspective a little more and get my arse into gear.  Give it a while, and I will get my arse into gear and start blogging on a regular basis once again.

Plot Thickens...

So, URL Providing Company called me again today... Thanked me (!!) for removing my posts about That Company, but requested I also now remove all the comments.  So, despite originally being told that my personal views are wrong, the 80 or so people across all the posts must ALSO be wrong too about That Company.

On the bright side, she DID tell me that I can say exactly what I want to say, just not on their servers.  My "freedom of expression" counts, as long as I say it somewhere else...

Clearly the word "FREEDOM" doesn't quite mean what I thought it meant.  Feel like I've been dumped in a box with the likes of the KKK and that Mental Church in America.  Maybe I should find out who hosts them...  Or even get a host in the USA where I know they won't tell me "You can't say that, it's not nice"

All the posts and comments are all saved and backed up, ready for people that want to see it. 

Angry... And Then Some

Today, I got a phone call.  The people that host the URL of 0ddness have received a complaint against my blog, for the defamatory and libellous comments made upon it.  I am NOT going to name them - you all know who I mean.

The URL Hosting People were not impressed.  Despite "Freedom of Speech/Freedom of Expression" sections under the Human Rights Act, which states I am entitled to my own opinion (and let's not forget every ex-employee that has contacted me also) the URL People are NOT willing to have their company taken to court.

Which is fine.  I can understand that.

So, as per the instructions of my Domain Name Hosts, I have removed the posts temporarily.  I am, however, now seeking Legal Advice.  I am, however, CERTAINLY going to the papers/glossy mags.

The fact that a certain company has so much bad press hitting it's fan from ONE BLOG on the entire web, that they feel the need to threaten and flex muscles, then that's fine.  Had they slung their proverbial hooks and carried on ignoring me, fine, they'd have been ignored in return.

I found a very interesting article earlier too:

Article 10: Freedom of Expression

(1) Everyone has the right of freedom of expression. This right shall include freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart information and ideas without interference by public authority and regardless of frontiers. This Article shall not prevent States from requiring the licensing of broadcasting, television or cinema enterprises.

(2) The exercise of these freedoms, since it carries with it duties and responsibilities, may be subject to such formalities, conditions, restrictions or penalties as are prescribed by law and are necessary in a democratic society, in the interests of national security, territorial integrity or public safety, for the prevention of disorder or crime, for the protection of health or morals, for the protection of the reputation or rights of others, for preventing the disclosure of information received in confidence, or for maintaining the authority and impartiality of the judiciary.

On the advice of Dave, I'm going to check my Hosting People contract and see if there's anything in there that tells me "You Can't Say This" and then, Angry Dan is going out.

I think it is a good thing to say that Certain Company have DEFINITELY seen my posts, are DEFINITELY pissed off with me, and are DEFINITELY going to see their names slapped across newspapers, because they got scared of the PERSONAL OPINION of ONE 34 year old man.

Good job...

And before people ask what I hope to achieve?  Nothing, really.  An apology, in writing, would be a start, but I won't hold my breath - you all recall how they treated the people that they paid to work for them....

Well, Helloooo...

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

Lies, And Damn Lies

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

What Time You Closing Today?

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

A New Week

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

Bloody Finally

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

The Hunt Is On

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

It Keeps Happening

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

Gimme Gizmo/DRW Ltd

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

Gimme Gizmo (REMOVED)

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

A Bunch of....

Having received a phone call this afternoon from my hosting company, I have been forced to remove all posts relating to DRW/Gimme Gizmo.

They will be posted elsewhere, but from a legal standpoint, there's not much I can do. Interesting to see how a personal site can be considered DEFAMATORY and SLANDEROUS and required to be removed.

I am angry.

-Dan

Stress Kellie

Those of you with Kellie on your Facebook page may have seen her status update this afternoon...  "What a horrid day. Going to need a stiff drink when I get home. Don't ever want to go through that again"

Now, it may come as some surprise that I was not to blame for this in any way, shape or form, so straight off, brownie points to me.  However, that doesn't stop Miss Kellie being stressed out her little tree.

Today, Kellie has been feeling mostly dead.  Tamsyn has some sort of germ lurking, and being that she loves Kellie to bits, has shared, so this morning when my dear sweet zombie fiancee fell out of bed, she wasn't feeling too great.  And headed to work.

Bless.

The plan today was for me to trundle back to mine, get some painkillers, trundle to Kellie, drop them off, then trundle back to Canvey and do my housewife chores. 

As usual, making plans usually involves them going pearshaped, and I am pleased to say, today was no different.

At around half ten, I get a message from Kellie telling me she needed me at the shop as soon as I could get there - BUT the cow didn't say why.  So, there's me thinking "Armed Robbery" or "Crazy Naked Dude" or "I lost my pen" or something similar.

Shot to Basildon using a bus AND a train (because I could) and entered the shop to find a VERY stressed Kellie, and an equally stressed Diane (the long suffering manager that thinks Kellie is great, and that I am an arse).  No armed suspects, no naked dude, and her pen was in her pony tail.

Don't Ask.

Turns out "The Company" has had... shall we say, some monetary issues.  Now, the details of it I am probably not allowed to go into, but it's a case of the same group of people owning different companies, leasing their companies to one another, then apparently switching it all around when it suits.  And probably making legal stuff harder to chase.  Apparently, it's all legal and done a LOT, but none the less...

Turns out one of these companies owed someone a fairly impressive wad o' cash.  Even though this was at a different branch of the company, what I was greeted with was a man with a clipboard and a big "I Am a Bailiff" hat.  OK, not quite, but still.  The company had till midday to pay this man a very nice wad o' cash, or he closed the shop, and the shops stuff became HIS stuff.

With me so far?  Nope, me either.

So, midday rolls around, Management and Directors and Their Ilk are nowhere to be found or contacted, so with me there for Moral Support, the shutters go down, and the man starts seizing everything.  Diane and Kellie can only do as they are told as Mr Bailiff has a very pretty "This Is All Mine" court order.

The girls are stressed so far out of their trees it's not even funny.  Mr Bailiff gets the Stressed Girls to open the safe, because, as he puts it ever so eloquently, it's now HIS safe, and if they don't, 1) He'll just take the safe, and 2) He'll have them arrested for Breach of the Peace - and as the on-site security team pointed out, he CAN and WILL.

Here you go, one safe, open.  It was like a REALLY slow-motion robbery.

Now, FINALLY, the Management get on the phone, and guess what they do - tell off Diane (the shop boss) for letting him in the safe.  It's against the law and blah blah blah.  But his paper work says otherwise.  HIS stuff now.

So, over the next three hours or so, the man is on the phone - very professional and calm and so on - and being passed from Manager to Director to Finance Department and the Owners Dog and so on.

In the end, after taking every penny on the premises, he comes to an agreement with the management that the store can continue trading, the seized money will come off the company debt, BUT they have two days to pay the rest off.

Management, I should add, that are still shouting and screaming that it's all wrong.

So, he goes.  I'm sat reading over the legal stuff with the head security bloke, and it occurs to everyone that no one asked him for ID.  Oops.  Security get on the phone, have the guy watched and followed, and I'm actually sorry to say that he DID check out and wasn't jumped by the security team.

Damn.

After working out how to get some money in the store, Kellie and Diane now reluctantly have to reopen the store, stressed out to the maximum.  One of the Directors phones up, and - get this - actually apologises to Diane and Kellie for the stress and hassle they've had today and even gave them a little "We're Sorry We're Twats" bonus.  nothing amazing, but still.  Thought that counts and all that.

Just before they reopen, all the paperwork Mr Bailiff needed arrives, and with me and the security bloke going over it - it looks like the company are actually in the RIGHT, and that the bailiff may have jumped his proverbial gun slightly... So the wad he took today, and all the charges and levies he slapped on top - all have to be returned and refunded to the company.

Now, I'm not a legal expert, and I can see what both the bailiff and the company are saying, but I personally don't give two craps which of them is wrong or right.  The stress the girls suffered today through no fault of their own - because had he seized everything the shop would have shut down and the girls would be out of work four weeks before Xmas.

I'd like to be able to say it's sorted and over with now, but in two days time, if it is not resolved, he WILL be back, and he WILL shut it all down.

So, please keep your fingers crossed that the Directors do sort their crap out, figure out who owes what, and make sure they don't stuff the staff up royally once again.

Twats.

So, this evening, Kellie has her feet up, junk food and booze to hand, and is taking it easy before rolling back into work tomorrow!

My Working Girl

First off, yes, I know full well what that phrase means.  But so be it.  I'm a big boy, I'll get beaten up by someone tiny, but I can handle it ;)

Anyways.  For those of you on Facebook or Twitter, you will have seen my status updates over the last few days pertaining to Miss Kellie.  For the last few months, she's been looking for work, determined to get out there and earn a crust.

Of course, the world being what it is at the moment (that is, a cattle pen for employers taking who they want - job seekers outnumbering job places), this has not been the easiest of grafts.  Most of the companies that Kellie has sent applications and CVs don't even have the common courtesy to say "Sorry, but you've not been successful at this time".

And (rant warning) I'm not even talking about little One-Man-Band style pharmacies, or little offices run by Marjorie The Pensioner.  I'm talking big fat corporations.  McDonalds, 3 (the mobile phone people), Waterstones...  And yes, I don't care if I am naming and shaming.  See, big companies like that don't give a shit about Normal People, so Kellie has sent her applications off, jumped through hoops and filled in countless questionnaires, only to hear precisely f$ck all.

Arseholes to them, then.

Anyways, on our travels Oot and Aboot, we keep our eyes peeled for openings.  Part time jobs are few and far between, especially something flexible around kids school times.  On Thursday, we were wandering through Basildon, when a shop that wasn't open yet (as in, still stocking, a new shop) had an advert for Full and Part Time staff. 

Of course, we forgot to bring her CVs with us.  So, Friday morning, her mum drops me Kellies stuff, and after taking the Peanut to school, I head into town and set up camp outside the shop.  Literally, set up camp.  Large latte, phone playing games, hands free kit to chatter away... And I sit.

And hour and a bit later, the shop is still not open, so I pop into the jewellers next door and ask if they know when it's opening.  Not a clue, the lady tells me, but - eyeing the envelope addressed to the manager - she offers to take the stuff and hand deliver it when they open.

I check with Her The Boss that this is OK, and getting the nod, leave the stuff with Jeweller Lady.  Friday morning.

Part of Kellie was pretty much expecting to hear nothing.  After all, that's what she's had plenty of so far (those arseholes...) and Sunday, in order to exhaust the kids to get them to bed early get some fresh air, we head over to the West Canvey Marsh, a new wildlife sanctuary near Kellie.  While we're wandering knee-deep in long grass and trying to find the source of the strange bird churruping and warbling away, her phone goes.

Can you come for an interview on Monday.  ie, the day after where we are now.  Her reply was very much hell yes, though not in those exact words.

Monday rolls around, and those on Twit-book will have seen I was as nervous as she was.  We decided to head into town early.  2pm interview, so we go into Basildon at... Hang on, 9.30am?!  So, we coffee'd, wandered, wandered, did stuff... All morning, she's asking me "What if they ask such-and-such" or "How should I answer This Question" and so on.  I was, as ever, very helpful and supportive.  Kellie asked me what she should answer if they say "What can you bring to the company?"  My answer of "Your Boobs" was apparently not helpful.  Go figure.  She opted for the "Well, I'll just be myself" and while my response of "Well, I wouldn't do that if I were you" was answered with a slap, I like to think I chilled her out a bit.

Interview o Clock rolls around, I wish her luck, Twit-book again, and sit back out where I camped on Friday.

Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, she comes out.  Exhilarated, shaking like an epileptic leaf, pale as anything, but alive.  She wasn't sure how well it went, but it was very relaxed, and very casual.  She um'ed and arr'ed a but, we went over her answers to questions and I did my best to chill her out.  And at no point did she give the answer of "My Boobs" for any questions.  Shame really.  Think that would have been amusing.

So, Monday night we chill out. Curry, TV, couple of JD & Cokes, to bed.  Tuesday morning, we're both full of cold and vegged out on the sofa, and Kellie is saying things like "They won't call" or "At least it was good practice and so on"  And she spends the day pottering about a bit.  Keeping busy, trying to ignore it.

Though, every time her phone rang, she was on it like a shot.

4.45pm her phone goes, and she answers.  Hello? Yes, speaking.  Oh Hi.  Yep.  Right.  Really?  Oh wow!  Tomorrow?  Yep I can do that!

And so on.

Despite the manager having a massive stack of applications and a shit-load of interviews to go through, it took 36hours or so to decide to hire Kellie.

She started on her induction today, and starts work proper tomorrow.

So congrats to my baby.  Well done gorgeous, you did well and I'm very proud of you.  F$ck all those other companies.

Now I am dating a Sales Assistant, that can afford to keep me in the life I have grown accustomed....  Fast food, fast cars, champagne...  OK OK, Salad and a Beer is fine.  And I'll make it ;)

And yes, sly readers will note, I've not mentioned the name of the shop.  And I'm not going to either.  And if you know, please don't either.  The last thing I think she needs is random people popping in and applauding her with the comment on "I read on Dans blog..."

If I am not allowed in there while she's working, then neither are you.

Yes, I got barred ;)  She thinks I might embarrass her... ME.  Sweet innocent me...