November 30 (Tuesday): Drugs Have Done Good Things. Another dream and I find myself in a new job with more responsibility, pretty much an imagination of myself in the position I interviewed for yesterday. In this dream however, the office is indeed female dominated but the office is set out like a modern classroom and my boss appears to be Mr Disney once more. I find myself with a messy desk of work to match my new additional responsibilities (no downtime at this place, unlike BS) and also sitting on my desk is an opened copy of Henry Miller, so I guess even though I am in a new job, writing remains pretty much on my mind. My second day and I find myself catching a cheap lift/elevator, arriving late. When I turn up and settle into work a member of staff (very much like an elder tax colleague I used to work with) I had missed the previous day coughs, unsubtly gesturing to my new boss for an introduction. The introduction happens along with a very obvious air of displeasure in my new bosses tone.

This morning I woke up at around 4.30AM. Who knows what a sign of this was but it did mean getting back to sleep was a real problem and undoubtedly means the rest of my day will now be spent playing catching up, semi yawning. In an attempt to get back to sleep while doing something useful, I attempt to start of the ACCA/BPP tracks but my computer has only managed to crash itself again during the night, so in order to do the audio thing, I have to reboot and wait for things to happen, further waking me up to the world. Eventually I get the tracks going, so hopefully some of it will go in.

I awaken to my computer still completely mashed. And a very stressful experience it proves to be too. I persistently bug Allen for help as I keep re-running the Panda scan and repeatedly discover nothing. Allen emails, pretty stating “are you insane? You have broadband but no firewall!”. I panic and take up AOL’s gracious offer (yeah right) to put McAfee on my computer (in addition to on my AOL monthly bill). Bonus upon bonus though, it actually works. As I run a scan, the program picks out so much shit on harddrive I am almost embarrassed. And suddenly it is allowing me to delete/remove stuff that I previously suspected as being viruses but my PC would not allow me to zap (a pretty frightening loss of control I tell you).

Today I should be in Shepherd’s Bush on a BPP mock exam course but in these times of counting pennies, I figure the costs of a £30 train fare do not weigh/balance much against my no real requirement (I think) to take the exam. Instead, at home, I settle down and attempt the Dec 03 tax paper at home. It doesn’t go very well to say the least.

I find myself staggering back to my computer, to tempt fate, to test whether it really has finally be cured. It actually seems pretty unlike. Unlike My Smelly Valentine Sara who today suddenly is expounding a desire not only to come back to England for a visit next month but to move back here permanently. I immediately jump for joy at the proposition but then soon realise what a fucking mug I am. Today Haslett is acting thoroughly wet, asking ridiculous rhetorical questions and making sweeping statements that go entirely against previous declarations she made in/at better times (for her). However, allow it all to distract me as I actually feel I am able to offer some good advice when more likely, I am happy to allow it all to distract me away from revision/study. She goes on for hours about it, all comments that lead to places I don’t want to go.

Today my phone goes mental, to the point that by the end of the day I am not answering it. Acme in Ipswich phone my landline and mobile phone at exactly the same time, the temp lady and the permanent position lady have all sorts of goodies to give/offer me it seems. Eventually I find myself telling them “I’m just too snowed under with studies at the moment”. The phone then rings again and now it is Acme Personnel. Andy speaks to me and after a big of hard work and prodding/pushing it seems that they have got a reference out of BS and after all the flap and pomp of our initial meeting, the reference is no actual problem and that they will be putting my name across/out to perspective employers. I say “great” but also repeat my spiel about my studies.

Today is the first day/time that I have to sign on at the Job Centre. I drag out my little employment diary and fill it in with nonsense and get ready/prepared for my 3.20 appointment. I go over all my recent paperwork and notice on my car MOT invoice the name “S. Barnard”. That is someone I used to school with and while I used to get on with him, I still find myself acting suspicious that it was him who jacked the invoice up.

Early afternoon and I pull myself together and head into town for the Job Centre. I arrive in town much too early (2PM) and as I head to town I bump into Nina. I joke about being sacked and she thinks that I am referring to her and the Discovery Store. No, I explain and eat shit and I try to talk my way out of the situation, attempting to convince not only her but me also that being unemployed isn’t all that bad. I fail.

As I wander in town, the inevitable occurs that I was really dreading: seeing old work colleagues/acquaintances, some of whom may have read comments about themselves in my award winning blog. The first bod I spot is Richard. I doubt he’d recognise me anyway and even if he did, he used to spend half his time in the office calling me “Steve”. I do my best to ignore/blank/hide from him. Seconds later though and there is contestant number two: Andrex. There she is stood in a cash machine queue, looking down obviously avoiding eye contact, her way of ignoring people. She ignored me (and every other male that wasn’t management) while I was at the office anyway so in the end she does the pair of us a favour. Finally I bump into Louise/Lulu and she’s a cut above, a genuinely nice person who it was easy to have time for (even if she did steal my set/desk, which meant my transfer/sentencing to Chernobyl, causing my blog, causing my eventual/inevitable dismissal). We’re cool, we converse nice nice as I attempt to glean feedback as to what the story of my dismissal around the office is (I know I shouldn’t care about this but obviously I do). She tells me that she was on courses when it all happened (yeah, me too). I fall short of telling her “get out of there fast”, actually finding myself being really mature and not saying a cross word at all. I guess really, in an overstaffed competitive environment such as that one, a number of staff members will have benefited from my leaving. It looks like the reality of my old work place will be lingering for quite some time and the bad taste in my mouth from the whole dealings will be there longer.

Today I have set myself some more chores for around town but obviously nowhere near enough as soon (after getting an RFL for my car etc) I find myself at a loose end, staggering around town waiting for my appointment. And it is really depressing to feel so useless and without a place to be/go.

As I check my bank balance at Natwest, my fucking phone rings yet again and it is Acme once more. The lady has an appointment for me in Hadleigh that she wants to line up asap, as soon as some day this week. Did she not hear what I said earlier in the day? Basically as I have allotted all my time this week to study and other sources of yuks, I tell her I can’t do it until next Thursday (the first day after my exams) which is also code for “stop phoning me”.

Thankfully time comes around to go into the Job Centre for my appointment/interview. And I still arrive ten minutes early. Almost immediately I am seen as a man calls me over to his desk. I look around for a hidden camera; is this some kind of test? He keeps calling me “mate” and I don’t like it. I tell him I’ve had interviews and I’m looking for a job and it’s suffice. I suspect I have been handed to this man to deal with because I am an obvious soft touch and I won’t give him any grief. I just want a job.

Within minutes, my visit is all over. I buy mum a birthday card (£2) and I buy myself some Playstation games (£30). Am I selfish? That is really the way to spend your giro, I think I’m getting into this lark a bit too comfortably.

From there I head over to the train station to get a ticket for Liverpool Street for tomorrow morning and then I pop to Asda to get the new REM album on CD that mum has asked for for her birthday tomorrow. Panic, they don’t have the CD. Has it actually been released yet? Oh shit, we have a problem.

I get home disillusioned and worried, a failure once more. I text Phoebe for some kind of existence recognition, asking her how the audit mock went. I also proceed to drink copious amounts of Rocket Fuel coffee which makes me hyperactive for the remainder of the evening.

I hope back onto the MSN where I swop cyber spit with Sara and Richard. Richard gives me some hope when he acknowledges that there actually is a new REM CD and that it has been out for months. Rejuvenated I head back out on a mission to get it.

I go to Tesco Hythe and there is no sign of any such CD. And they have a Top 100 of CDs. Richard warned me that the album was bad but to be out of the Tesco Top 100 CDs chart, it must be REALLY bad. Close to throwing in the towel, I head over to Sainsburys in Stanway where I hit jackpot and manage to pick up the CD. I then reward myself by buying the latest issue of Loaded in the hope that they have printed my letter/email (yeah right).

Tonight Millwall are playing at Crewe and it doesn’t look good, their away record this season is just shockingly shit and par the course tonight, Millwall are 1-0 down after 12 seconds! There are bright lights when Planet Paul Ifill comes on as a substitute and scores an equaliser late in the second half but Crewe only proceed to score a winner five minutes later seeing Millwall lose 2-1 in a game they really could have done with winning.

After watching a really funny and fascinating documentary about bears, my night ends with watching Teachers and suddenly the series (number four) perks up as for the very time in three or so years Penny is attractive as she trots around the school like a Nazi with a complex.

np: Arab Strap – Here We Go