(NOT) SIGNING ON!

I signed on for the last time at Carlisle Job Centre yesterday, having decided to register as self-employed for a few weeks at least.

I walked out feeling the similar sort of optimistic sensation as when leaving a job: it felt like a new start and for some reason I am more optimistic than ever that some of my writing is going to pay off shortly.  I have about £500 to last me until I apply for Maternity Allowance (if I get it: as far as I can tell I am entitled to it, having worked 26 weeks out of the 66 before the due date), which I'm going to apply for from the beginning of December.  Fingers crossed!

It helped that the man I saw was nice: and he said how hard it seems that one only gets contribution-based JSA for 6 months when one has paid a lot into the system.  Apparently he was in a similar situation, having paid contributions for 33 years.  He also said that I always did far more in terms of job-seeking than a lot of people and seemed to be making better progress than most as well: and warmly wished me luck.  So that helped me to leave on a positive note.  I am just so glad that I don't have to go back there again: there was someone standing behind me in the queue yesterday with that unwashed, homeless sort of smell, which makes my stomach churn.

The £500 I have left isn't real money: it's just money which we owe to Husband's brother and which he's said we don't need to pay back yet. As we're also owed about £1,000 from the Tax Credits people (who are useless: they have now received a letter of complaint from us: how can you ask people to pay back an overpayment which you have agreed, in writing, is your fault?) and I'm hoping that I'll get the money for 'selling my story' in January then we should be OK to pay him back and pay my National Insurance contributions for a few months, plus the winter utilities bills: oh, and we have 3 very expensive bottles of wine to sell. 

In relation to utilities, we're awaiting a call to install some more loft insulation, mostly funded by a grant from the City Council, so with any luck that will reduce our bills this year.  Apparently the geese are over from Siberia early which could mean a good cold winter for us: we're hoping for a month of snow like we had last year (so long as I can still get into hospital to give birth....)!  We've also appealed against our Council Tax assessment and should hear about that soon: it seems our Council Tax wasn't reassessed when a large part of what used to be this house's garden, plus the double garage, were sold off.

It looks as if Husband's job situation may not be as dire as he had at first thought, but as we know that we'd be better off on benefits if he gets any drop in salary and that potentially he may be able to get a job in Aberdeen paying quite a bit more, we're not worrying at the moment.  Every-so-often one of his pet phrases goes through my head though: 'a complete lack of looking reality in the face' (or similar).  We both tend to swan through life without thinking things through very much.  I'm more of a worrier than he is by far, but it hasn't stopped me making some relatively rash decisions in my life.  But often these apparent risks have in fact paid off: if not immediately then after a while. 

The first time I was told I had 'an obstinate rashness' was by an English teacher at school.  In my mock 'A' level English exam I answered a question on Webster's The White Devil. I didn't like the questions on Sheridan's School for Scandal and The Rivals, nor was I very fond of them as plays, and despite the fact that she had told us quite firmly that we didn't know the Webster well enough to answer a question on it, I did so anyway.  The teacher's attempt at being annoyed with me for being disobedient was tempered by the fact that she said I'd done a rather good answer.  I think it was one of the occasions which has given me the confidence to try things I've been told not to, ever since.  My Dad told me not to throw in a well-paid and secure job to go to work as a holiday rep.: did I listen to him?  Well, I ended up in France in 1994 and Norway in 1995, and don't regret it for a moment.

I guess coming off the pill in January, albeit that on a conscious level I was convinced I wouldn't - or couldn't - get pregnant was a similarly rash decision, especially when one or two people had pointed out that I must be pretty fertile to have got pregnant so easily earlier in my 40s.  I think a part of my sub-consciousness just wanted to see what would happen, much as I dreaded having loads of miscarriages: it seemed a silly, risky thing to try for a third baby deliberately but if nature decided it was right then we'd go along with it.

We currently have no capital to speak of and a household income which is slightly less than that which the Chancellor is going to set as the level for households on benefits.  But we feel happy and optimistic.  Things will get better and money always comes from somewhere (it's just we spend it when it does: after all I have relatively recently had inheritance and redundancy and got through both, although I did think I'd have a new job by now!).  There are jobs out there, but most importantly our children, my Husband and I are healthy: and despite being a bit on the small side, the baby seems to be as well.  He's wriggling quite a bit and his heartbeat is strong.  I'm beginning to get very curious to meet him to see what he looks like and discover what he's like in character!

Next week I'm to be featured in Carlisle Living: I have to say I wasn't sure about having a photograph of me sideways on holding my fat stomach, but I guess that's the point of the story.  And I'm waiting to hear back from the journalist who has written my story up for Woman magazine.  Meanwhile I'd better chase up some editors myself.  And, thank goodness, no more silly job hunts via directgov.uk...... hooray!