Thanks to Katherine at Supply and Demands for this lovely cuppa. Such a beautiful cup and saucer, so dainty and sweet, but never judge a cup by it’s saucer honeys. My one contains two packets of Proplus, half a can of redbull and a double espresso but you’d never notice….

As you all know……..I’m very, very tired, and the rules are here and I’m going to do my best to post 10 but my eyelids may not allow, so keep this for now…

Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.

Pass the award to 10 other blogs that you have newly discovered. Remember to contact the blogger to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

Well number one goes to the Good Charlotte…tea(sic) hee -

She’s here at anknelandburblets.com – lovely design and a lovely lady (I know she likes coffee in the morning…but I’m sure she’ll appreciate this cuppa!

Glamumous – Fabulous, glamorous, I’m-so-very-jealous, have a cuppa on me….

I love these hardworking ladies at Totsy, what a blog

littlemummy.com She’s new to me, she’s funny and snappy and snazzy

Justaplanerideaway - This pan handler, she’s plane great…sorry…bad puns!

Peter at pressofficeparents.blogspot.com – really good to see people blogging about Parentline Plus and I think this is great – stick the kettle on will ya?

Sticky fingers because this post I’ve linked to made me laugh out loud – it’s just sublime!

This is a great one – Mollychicken – and I am hoping Madame will knit me a tea cup too

Dulwich Mum has put us all to rights on how to deal with Swine Flu so she deserves a nice cuppa too

and another new one to me, 3kidsnojob – talking swine again….I’m sure tea boosts the immune system…

You know me, I’m always at a loose end these days but I do manage to keep myself pretty busy. So today’s ‘job’ was to get back to basic communication and create a flyer and publicise my ‘Lost’ notice to my neighbours and use some good old fashioned door to door leafleting.

I found myself inhabiting a strange new junk mail world as I opened creaking gates and posted my flyer through the NO JUNK MAIL stickers on letterboxes. I met a nice VSO lady on the way round, she was doorstepping for volunteers, and a rather gorgeous delivery man who eyed my leaflet very sweetly (he obviously thought I was the neighbourhood kook, and I guess he’s right).

The whole thing was quite scary. While I managed to get a good old gander at the decor and decay of the houses in my close vicinity, I was terrified of being pepper sprayed or worse, attacked by dogs. Thankfully I was not, and amazingly that was my whole morning taken up.

I’m sure you’re wondering by now what my particular ‘Lost’ thing is.

Well, when we moved here last year, Miniminx and I thought it would be a great idea to let our gorgeous little tortoise Shelley experience the great outdoors and experience summer on the lawn. I’ve never seen her so lively, she chomped and tiptoed her way around the garden like Angelina Ballerina, she grew, her eyes sparkled, it was a good thing. Whenever we brought her inside, she would walk up to the french doors and gaze longingly at the big wild world outside and even bring herself up onto two legs. So you got it, we gave in and set her loose. She’s a born wanderer, and started disappearing for the odd day, and come back, then a week and come back, and then three weeks and back. But by September she had upped and left us. I was worried that she’d taken up home with the tortoise four doors down or worse, snaffled by the foxes under the shed. Worried as I was, I knew she could peck her way out of any situation, but come the snow, Jack Frost would get her. I have had terrible dreams about her demise over the last few months and felt haunted by her loss. While I feared the worst, and Miniminx has shed a few tears, I’ve always kept the faith strong and believed she would return triumphantly in the spring.

So the nature of my DIY-Direct-Mail shot was a last concerted effort to find Shelley. It was quite poetic…

HAVE YOU SEEN OUR TORTOISE?
Our lovely tortoise Shelley has gone walkabout.
We have a feeling she may wake up out of hibernation in your garden because we’re neighbours. Her usual habitat is XXXX XXXXX, so if you find her keeping your lawn in trim please call us on XXXXXXXX
We have all the documentation to prove she is ours.

You get the idea.

Much as I’d like to say I felt a bit smug about my little lost tortoise campaign, I was actually feeling really guilty for losing her. And how upset Miniminx has been. And what if an empty shell is found in someone’s garden and they drop it by. And was I showing myself up as a complete and utter loser. And, and…so enough of all that, I had done all I could, and that was that, it was now in the lap of the gods.

I decided to get busy with the garden. I picked weeds at random and ventured to the bottom of the garden to check on our resident newts in the water butt. I know I’m naughty but when they’re basking in the water they look a bit dead so I’m not averse to poking them with a stick. Phew! The floating one was alive. I looked around the shed and felt a bit glum. Then I spotted the new ringweed shoots (that hideous scourge of any garden) I became a toxic avenger, brandishing the weed killer and spraying it with venom. I my eyes darted around the foliage, something moved, or did it?

‘OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ I boomed.
There was a shell, a Shelley shell. With little feet sticking out of it, but no head. I grabbed the poke-the-newt-stick and gingerly reached out towards my muddy beloved.
‘Is she…..?’ I whispered to myself
‘Is she….?’ I reached over and tapped her shell. She moved! Her head popped out.

photo credit Bob Gibbons

‘ALIVE! YESSS!’
I ran inside shouting
‘The tortoise, she’s back! Hurray!’
A startled cleaner jumped up and down.
‘Sweet’ she said. Maybe I should have offered her £20 ages ago and she would have found her in the manner of my iPod?

Weirdly enough, I’d been checking tortoise web sites to find out what I should do with one straight out of hibernation. So I put the taps on in the sink to get the water running and filled it, adding some sugar.

I headed back outside, darling Shelley had the appearance of a little space creature that had just landed – slightly dazed and looking around wildly (well as wildly as a tortoise can) at her new surroundings. She was covered in mud so must have tunnelled out of somewhere pretty recently. What a result!

She is now bathing in the manner of Cleopatra in a large warm bath and happily chomping on greens. I still can’t quite believe she just appeared, but hang on a minute. On second thoughts, do you think some bastard got the leaflet, realised that she belonged to us and then just lobbed her over the fence in a panic?

I’ve obviously lived too much of an urban life. For just a moment ago, I got a call from a concerned neighbour.

‘Hello, I got your note’
‘Hi’
‘I haven’t found her, but I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for her’
‘Thanks so much. But do you know what? Oh, you’ll never guess what.’
‘What?’
‘Can you believe it, I just found her at the bottom of the garden. Alive and well and she’s reviving after hibernation in the sink, happy as larry’
‘Aaaah, that’s such a lovely story, that’s made my day’
‘And mine, thank you so much for calling’
‘No problem, that’s really great’

…now, much as I’d like to think it would be a better story if this caller had been the secretive tortoise-over-the-garden-lobber, I’m not going to believe it.

I’m happy to have my other little baby back…

The ‘news’ being the result of my interview. Waiting is just the worst thing and especially when your future is a stake, it becomes the kind of wait that makes you clean your house inside out, iron and fold things, generally do anything to distract yourself and keep busy and of course, gaffer tape your mobile to your leg so you don’t miss the ‘call’.

So I heard, and first it was luke warm news but with an exciting twist. Perhaps there was another newly created role which would work for me – would I be interested? I bought into this 100% as it was a far more exciting proposition and I was up on the moon for a while.

As calls came and went, this turned into a red hot fireball which then unexpectedly blew up in my face. So now the cold tap is attached to the garden hose and drenching me so to speak. What a day, and it’s not even 6pm. I’m just plain old keeling over.

Not sure where to turn now. It seems I’m more likely to win the lottery than get a job. I’m going to really, really panic for now and take stock when I’ve calmed down a bit – so probably by tomorrow I’ll be back at it. I had my hopes up and now they’re dashed again.

What’s a girl to do?

Well, I shall be drinking red wine tonight (if the head cold allows) and mouthing along to my karaoke (can’t upset the neighbours can I?).

And tomorrow, as Scarlett says, is another day…and how lucky I went down the garden centre to buy some seeds for a vegetable patch, perhaps they’ll keep us fed over the coming Summer months….

‘I GOT THE JOB!!!! I GOT THE JOB!!!!!’

The weirdest thing was, I knew I hadn’t got the job but I left the interview room on a real high and shouted it from the rooftops – bizarre to say the least. They call it ‘wish fulfilment’.

Needless to say, as in any absurd dream, and I have a lot of them, things take on a rather surreal touch.  Unlike my teenage dreams of appearing on stage having not learned my script (that was always recurrent before exams), or even those other ones of sitting on the loo in public places, this time I was cavorting in a very red short dress…not a good look for me right now, so I see this as a warning; I will not, I repeat not, be wearing anything red to my next interview. 

Having studied Jung and Freud does this mean I’m not reddy (sic) or am I falling short, is this the bums rush? 

On the other hand, even though I thought I looked rather good (how come you can always see yourself in dreams, I just don’t get it) – it fell nothing short of bare faced cheek, am I going to embarass myself and leave redfaced…I’m cringeing already.

Yes, I know, my dreams are just like my everyday life, full of insouciance and double entendres…fa-nah fa-nah fa-nah.

Aaaarghhh – it’s nearly 12.30 and I need my beauty sleep. So as I hit the pillow, perchance to dream or not, do wish me luck…I need it. I am experiencing serious butterflies and have come down with a cold so will be snivelling like a wretch…with a red nose (yes, a red nose is a bummer so I’m sure my dream has a deeper meaning). I’ve spent hours, if not days, preparing myself and now I can’t sleep a bit but I have to try otherwise it’s red nose and red eyes and possibly the red card.

I have a put a lot of time into a very minimalist presentation and I have 15 minutes to convince these lovely people I’m the lady for the job…

Maybe dreams can come true – aaaah aaah, any dream will do…

It’s not for the want of trying that I’m still at home job hunting, as you can see from my older posts, I’ve been trying to get a foot in the door at lots of places. But still, it’s hard not to think ‘Why me?’.

Last week I had lunch with a dear dear friend, she’s called Roofy-roof in our household, christened by Miniminx when she was toothless.

Roofy – she does have teeth! – is in fact one of the most extraordinary people I know and deserves a bit SHOUT on my blog for being so fab. HELLO YOU!. We first met 9 years ago, and I remember it very well because I was 7 and a half months pregnant, hiding my bump under a massive fake fur wrap and trying to blag a job in her start up (the shame of it – ha ha!). We had an informal interview over coffee and got on like a house on fire. I thought I’d pretty much bagged the job, but I hadn’t dropped the bomb just quite yet.

As we left the coffee house on Old St (home to virtually every dot com start up that ever was) she clocked my body profile and I could only grin inanely, hoping my waters wouldn’t break…

Her mouth formed a sideways capital O, and while she was rendered speechless, I filled in the blanks and explained that it was her lucky day and she would essentially be getting two for one if she gave me the job (see, it’s the way you spin it!).

After a few more meetings, and several months after Miniminx arrived, we started work together in the those crazy boom and bust times which pale into insignificance against the back drop of the 21st century credit crunch carnage, but hey it was all last century and at least we live in interesting times.

So back to the 21st century and a nice little eaterie in Covent Garden. We ordered lunch and caught up on our general gossip; life, love, friends, foes, shopping and travel. Then came, the ‘So let’s cut the crap, what’s really going on’ bit, and I was a bit grumbly about the work situation.

‘I don’t know if I can go back to agency life, I want to do my own thing, but I don’t quite know what it is yet’ I whinged
‘Come on, you do have to get a job, it’s not like you have much of a choice’
‘There are jobs out there but they’re a big step down in salary’
‘Maybe you’ll have to bite the bullet’
‘But I really like blogging, it’s fun’ I whined
‘Well see if you can make a living doing it, maybe you can’
‘Oh I dunno, I doubt it’ what a moaner!
‘Well a job will be the only option then’
‘Hmmm, none of them really excite me though, nothing floats my boat’
‘Oh dear’
‘Is there something wrong with me?
‘I know it! I know what’s wrong with you!’
‘What, please enlighten me?’
‘Well I think it’s obvious, you’ve lost your work Mojo’
‘Oh my god, you’re right. My work Mojo is nonexistent’
‘Yeah, it’s obviously gone’
‘I’m like Austin Powers – how am I going to get it back?’
‘Search me’
‘Yeah, I dunno either…’

Roofy was right, as I pen this, I realise, if I can get a job heavily pregnant I can do anything (Roofy-roof is always right). So I am cranking up a gear and I’ve set a mental deadline of two more months to get it in the bag.

And hey ho, what do you know, I have a job interview today. I’ve got 30 minutes to sell myself and I’ll be competing against a lot of candidates.

I’m nervous and scared but that’s a good thing, because I want it. I’ve done my homework, I’ve got some ideas, I’m writing a little checklist, printing off the job spec and CV to take with me (on the back of school newsletters to recycle paper no less).

While the odds maybe stacked against me, at least I’m out there trying. I’ve pulled off bigger feats than this before and even though times are tough, I’m going to pull out all the stops, make a big effort and rise to the occasion.

Being out of work is any oxymoron – I’m am actually working very hard to get a job even though the KPIs below amount to failure. Maybe I should just do nothing…and wait

A year ago this would have been an adventure and I would have had  five or so face to face interviews by now and maybe two serious offers on the table but it’s no longer a job seekers’ market.

My efforts are not to be sniffed at, I haven’t succumbed to daytime TV and microwave lunches just quite yet but hey ho, it goes like this;

Hours spent trawling the web for jobs = 280

Registrations on job sites = 6

Paid subscriptions to job sites = 1

Recruiter meetings = 5

CV submissions = 15

CV re-edits = 6

CV rejections = 2

Non acknowledgment of CV submissions = 4

Jobs that have evaporated due to the credit crunch before I even put a foot through the door = 2

Job interviews = 0

Interviews that are still in the pipeline = 2

Oh, I know it looks really bad on paper. But it only takes one job to come up trumps doesn’t it?

There’s a massive flipside to unemployment (apart from lie ins, daytime drinking, no commutes etc.)  It is not have to spend time with people you just wouldn’t hang out with under any other circumstances.  Workmates are just heinous at times – all that gnashing of teeth, loose eyes in head and frothing of the mouth, and that’s just me.

I know they don’t mean it but there’s loads of plain old crap that you suffer daily in the corporate office environment that you just wouldn’t bloody tolerate don’t get at home (unless you’re in Downing Street or the Whitehouse)…and there’s a lot to be said for swapping the at-work-alpha for the out-of-work-omega status.

Zero is the new hero for me as I realise that my work angst is nil.

Here goes, all those jaw clenching petty things that I no longer have to put up with;

1. The silent farters – you know who you are! – 0
2. ‘Does my life amount to this moments’ = 0
3. ‘URGENT’ work calls during home/sick/holiday/weekend-time = 0
4. ‘Are you REALLY sick?’ phone calls from unconcerned revenue/deadline driven colleagues = 0
5. Snide, snitchy, backbiting comments from septic single work ‘mates’ = 0
6. The ‘I found your idea and made it mine so I get a promotion and you don’t’ = 0
7. Unwelcome advances from drunken executives at work functions = 0
8. The ‘Sorry mate but I dumped you in it on a Friday night at 5pm – I’m off for a stag weekend’ = 0
9. Infuriating, desk sharing nose-picking, nail-biting toetappers = 0
10. Smokers who come back to their desks humming with the smell of fags/frantic Nicorette guzzling
    addicts = 0
11. ‘Oops I just shared that drunken photo of you to 2,000 people’, can I recall the email? = 0
12. The ‘I’m going to make you look SOOOO bad’ triple cc emails chasing you for a deadline you ‘supposedly’ missed but the cow colleague has just not read your email from three days ago
13. Snickering gimps on instant message who NEVER turn off the high pitched alert
14. Four word emails on crackberrys
15. The ‘I know you’re on holiday but if you’re reading emails, can you just ….’

But the thing is, these are the things things that make the world go round in working life, so now I’ve had a break, let me at ‘em!

Before Christmas I was listening to Moneybox on Radio 4 and a government spokersperson said everyone was eligible for Job Seekers Allowance. But guess who isn’t??? Yes, the Nixdminx gets nixed again! So while I sold my flat the day before prices plummeted, I have kept the cash but it counts as savings so I’m no better off really. Apparently I will get my stamps paid, but I still have to go and sign on. The ‘rebranded’ Job Centres – now called Job Centre Plus - have just about all closed down, which means I’ll have a 20 minute walk and a tube journey every fortnight to get just about nothing. Even the Lone Parent thing is rubbish. Keeping it all positive, I applied via the government web site for Job Seekers Allowance last week and at the end of pages and pages of forms it said I would be contacted by telephone within 48 hours – it took over a week for someone to call me. ‘Is it convenient? This call may take around 25 minutes…’ Well, I hardly at work am I? I then had to do an online claim over the phone, it was all the same questions which I’d done online, pointless. As a result, I have to go for an interview at the dole office and see two people (what horror!). I’m going to do it Rab C Nesbitt style.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k7VoFiagfs&hl=en&fs=1]

I’m sure this so called modernisation of the benefits system has created two extra layers of bureaucracy to the whole process by adding the online and telephone facilities. At least the bloke I spoke to was ok. It’s all pretty mortifying, they ask you if you’re pregnant and if your baby father is still alive – what a joke.

‘And what have you been doing to find a job?’ I was asked – well, jobs boards, personal contacts, newspapers, seeing recruiters of course. Harumph. I have actually found something pretty cool, a site called The Ladders. I applied to a job yesterday and signed up for a three month subscription which I think will pay off. It’s brand jobs and inhouse mostly and I would recommend it already, even after 24hours, because it has 600 jobs in marketing and a really comprehensive set up – take a look.

And back to my physical and spiritual evolution…I spent 2 hours on Wii Fit yesterday and then Miniminx beat my scores in minutes – we have been having such a laugh – the most hysteria has been raised by the football game where you have to do headers and dodge football boots and Panda heads, it gets a bit scary.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urLf0vgKfvE&hl=en&fs=1]
I started my giant collage yesterday and will finish it today. It’s like tapestry of colour and I’m using photos I’ve doctored in photoshop, tear sheets from magazines and acrylic paint, plus some of Nixminx’s art, so it’s a lovely piece. I dug around an old portfolio and found some pen and ink sketches I did about 10 years ago which I’m going to frame as they’re quite inspirational. In my social whirl during the holidays, I realised that most of my friends have got my paintings and photography scattered around their houses and I have very little. They’re very life affirming and I want my own art round me as a bolster – I suppose a bit of a comfort blanket in these strange days…

So, how do I get myself noticed? I think I found the answer. I’ve spent the last five hours creating a Social Media Curriculum Vitae – SMCV, you heard it here first! Yes, I’m excited, I’m packaged in 2.0 wrapping.

So while I’ve bought craft packs, glitter, glue, sequins and festive postage stamps for sending out Christmas cards, I realised, the only way to get myself heard in that hideous old fashion CV format is to link, link, link away.  So yes, linkedin, youtube, blinxx and every other place possible is now connected to little old me. I think I’ll leave out facebook at this point in time.

It took over an hour to post my CV on a corporate application, but when I finally managed it and the little appeared, it was an Aha! Eureka! moment. So there you have it, I answered my own question, well not quite, as always, a chance meeting made me think about it. It was all triggered by a very nice breakfast at my favourite pre-9am haunt Highroad House – while my wheat free toast, bacon, tomatoes and eggs did not quite make the grade – they all appeared on large plates separately so I looked like the biggest fatso in W4 – the company was what counted and the conversation. We were talking about how to put the world to rights, and work and lovely people and new media and the light bulb about the SMCV came on after a couple more coffees

So this Christmas is what I’m calling the CreditGrunch – while I waited for my guest, I was horrified to read a feature in The Sun about cures from the kitchen, ranging from Rosemary for PMT and chicken soup for colds – it really is a war effort – I’m the first to use almond oil on my skin or salt in the bath but I’m that kind of person – I don’t think Page 3 readers are! As the day wore on, I must have heard news round ups counting around 100,000 job losses today, and closer to home, the contractors I have been working with were all fired this morning with instructions to clear off and out tomorrow. Everyone is so miserable and the Grinch is very hard at work stealing Christmas this year. They’ve been Grunched…

But not everyone is sad, Miniminx had the Christmas Carol concert today, and not a dry eye in the house – tears of absolute joy and such wonder these cute bundles of innocence are so full of hope. Let’s hope we grown ups get a grip, I want Miniminx to have a glittering future and do something normal like be a vet(?!) and not even dream of being a WAG.