Thursday, 12 November 2009
Time flies
Monday, 2 November 2009
Going bananas
Banana bread has always been a baking fail for me. Last time I attempted it I didn't grease the tin - yes, yes I know, but it's the dullest part of baking - I always used to get my mum to do it when I was a young baker, ha! Inevitably the bread wasn't budging when it came out the oven, so it was less a loaf of bread and more a piles of crumbs.
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Forming apart
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
"Avoid employing unlucky people - throw half of the pile of CVs in the bin without reading them"
I spent most of yesterday being motivated by people who are paid a lot of money to tweek CVs and say things like 'personal stocktaking'.
Monday, 26 October 2009
Loafing about
The best thing about 'working' from home, other than getting to watch period dramas all day, is being able to cook and bake inbetween updating my CV.
Friday, 23 October 2009
Sign On, Sign Out
I’m now officially another statistic, having added another number to the growing unemployed. I was expecting to walk in a loonie bin, but Finsbury Park Job Centre was remarkably civilized. Disappointedly there was only one mad old fella barking down the phone and even he was saner than some people I’ve spent time in an office with. Unemployed people! Just like me! Time to bin that snotty attitude me thinks.
Being made redundant has thrown open a whole new world, which is both exciting and daunting. The thought of the world being my oyster makes my head spin so much that when I start thinking about all I could do, I get so overcome, I have to go and hide under my duvet. But lying in bed isn’t going to get me a job or send me to Peru.
Unexpectedly, the trip to sign on actually fired me up. I even got through the day without seeking solace under the covers. Maybe it’s the thought of a whole £60 a week coming my way. Think of all the lentils I could buy with that.
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Life from the front line of the dole queue
Having recently being made redundant, I find myself, like a growing number of people, on the unemployment scrapheap.
Having being ousted from my cushy health and beauty journalist job, I’m suddenly having to contend with the rather less glamorous world of jobcentres and career advisors.
But it’s not all doom and gloom from the sofa of the jobless.
In between job hunting and firing off emails to disinterested editors, I’ve rediscovered the joy of time; when the thought of another application form becomes too much, I’m enjoying taking out my frustrations my kneading dough, stuffing my face with homemade cupcakes and, rather more half-heartedly, trying desperately to improve my knitting. I may well be the world’s worse knitter.
I’m still haunted by the tortuous weeks spent crocheting a scarf at school when my textiles teacher in exasperation yanked the thing out of hands and finished it herself. I thought, 20 odd years later I may have become better with needles and wool.
But I’ve unraveled what’s meant to be a scarf five times, and have now decided to turn a blind eye to holes in it. It’s dolely chic no?