What a difference 15 minutes makes

When I went to sign on today, the dole officer looked at his Computer Screen of Death and Humiliation (TM) and noticed I wasn't getting any money through. He sent me to a little booth to phone a call centre in Glasgow, whose own Computer Screen of Death and Humiliation (TM) determined that I wasn't eligible for dole. Or perhaps the National Insurance Screen of Death and Etc. was just f**ked up. Could I please bring in the last two years' P60s, a blood sample, and a hair from a unicorn's tail? That would sort everything out. Probably.

Great. Just what I needed.

When I left the dole office and turned my mobile on, I had a message offering me a job. Not a writing job sadly, but nevertheless a job that pays proper money and will keep me in food, shelter, and PlayStation games. I start in a couple of weeks. Take that Computer Screen of Death and Humiliation (TM)!

To celebrate, I'm declaring myself on holiday for the rest of the month.