SACK THE AD AGENCY

I saw this ad in a building society window today. Talk about clutching at straws. Surely times have changed so drastically since they 'opened over 5,000 savings accounts every day last year' that even the lowest common denominator thickie wouldn't buy that line.

Time to embrace the zeitgeist. How about:

We're just as untrustworthy as all the others.
No wonder no one has opened a savings account with us this year. If you have any spare money, why not treat yourself to a holiday or try your luck with Ernie.
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IT'S ALL IN THE JEANS

Apparently the government is introducing free therapy at job centres as so many people are experiencing depression and mental illness due to the recession. I wonder if that includes retail therapy?

As I walked back from signing on the other day, I couldn't help but notice that my favorite shop had a sale on. 80% off some items. Still totally unaffordable for me, but although I tried to walk past, my legs just veered to the left of their own accord and the next thing I know, I'm entering the changing room with three pairs of jeans. None of them fitted me thank god, but before I could escape the sales assistant appeared with a beautiful pair of Seven jeans from the new collection.

Of course, they fitted me like a glove. They were perfect and lovely and felt amazing. They were also £150. Under normal circumstances I'd put them on my card and have a word with myself later. It didn't help that the sales woman was going on about how great they looked. I paced up and down the changing area for ages. If I sold all my things on ebay I could buy them. If I saved up my dole money for a month and didn't eat, I could buy them.

For the first time in my life (since I didn't get a pony), I had to walk away from the all consuming desire I was feeling. It was a lesson in acceptance. I'm not sure if I've learned it or not. I went back and touched them today.
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SO SUE ME

I cried all the way down the M1. No work, no money and I just found out the bloke that owns the house next door is threatening me with legal action for blocking a redundant right of way in my garden. He doesn't even live there.

If I don't remove the decking within 28 days I'll be served with 'injunctive proceedings', whatever they are. "All costs associated with any action will be claimed from you".

Good luck with that one.
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EVERY DAY'S LIKE SUNDAY

It's five months today since I got made redundant and to celebrate this anniversary I bought a 6-pack of Tennants Super, 20 Regal and didn't bother getting dressed.

Not really. I'm doing my best not to become a sterotypical doleite, but as the days merge into months it's difficult to remain optimistic. Every day's the same. Sunday's aren't special any more because they're the same as every other day. And despite all the news about the thousands of people in the same boat as me, I don't know one other person who's been made redundant.

I'm at my parents at the moment in Northamptonshire. Staring at their 4 walls instead of mine. Wallpaper instead of Farrow & Ball Elephant's Breath. I came up here to meet the creative director at the company I've applied for a job with, but I just found out they've pulled the budget and there's no longer a job. Typical. I've still got my fingers crossed for the one in Dubai but haven't heard any more. No doubt that's gone tits-up too.
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PESSIMISM PORN ADDICT

Having successfully fought the car crash TV addiction so far, I have another problem. I'm addicted to the news. The bad news. The doom and gloom coming from BBC News 24 all day, every day as I sit here looking for work.

It can't be good for the soul. If it's not redundancies and company's going bust (Barratts shoes yesterday – where will I buy my winkle pickers now?), it's natural disasters like the tragic bush fires in Australia. And I can't turn it off.

I haven't mentioned this to anyone before because it seems kind of perverse. I should be listening to something more uplifting surely? But it's not just me. I read in a magazine that it's becomming an epidemic. Someone in New York has identified this and named it Pessimism Porn.

Gordon Brown and all those bankers – porn stars. Who'd have thought it?

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A PRICEY TRIP TO THE CINEMA

One of the agencies phoned on Friday evening with a potential brief for this week. I kept everything crossed all weekend but by 4pm on Monday I still hadn't heard anything. Desperate to get out of the house, I'd gone into town to meet Claire for lunch. She had the day off and had just bought half of Topshop with her 15 year old niece.

After lunch we had some time to kill and not much money to spend so we decided to take advantage of the off-peak cinema ticket and see Jennifer Aniston's new film, 'He's Just Not That into You'. I'm not generally a cinema fan but I like a film I can relate to (!), so off we went to the horribly Blackpool-esque Trocadero near Picadilly Circus for a couple of hours of switch off your brain (and your phone) girly movie fun.

It was the most expensive film I'd ever seen because when I came out 2 hours later and switched my phone back on, I had 4 messages and a couple of texts trying to confirm me for the rest of the week at an agency in Farringdon. By the time I got back to them it was too late. They'd found someone else. I wouldn't mind but it's the first time my phones been off all year.

Lesson learned: Mobile phone's have silent/vibrate mode for a reason. Use it.
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I THINK I'M QUACKING UP

I signed on today. The woman was very friendly. It occurred to me that it was the first face to face conversation I've had with anyone this week. How depressing.

Afterwards I went on my daily trip to the park. Running makes me feel better. When I’d got round the lake today I felt so much better I heard myself say hello to a duck. Yes - I actually acknowledged a duck by saying hello to it. Not “hello me duck” or anything like that. Just a cheery “hello” and a wave.
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