I go to the doctor's with an ear ache; they run a few tests, and then prescribe me treatment for anthrax - look:

So there must have been a terrorist attack that nobody's told us about... No wait, if terrorists let off a stink bomb there'd be twenty days of news coverage, calls to increase detention without trial to 365 days, and legislation to ban joke shops (probably not a bad idea).

So it must be an ear ache. It certainly feels like anthrax, as the antibiotics hit my ear with all the precision of a nuclear warhead - leaving my whole body aching, and my ear still full of gunge. Urgh!

Anybody enjoying Big Brother should prepare to be have their senses overloaded;² the rest of you may find life chez spod a little dreary.

Last week I had an (outer) ear infection, and was in chronic pain from Sunday evening through to Tuesday. It made my jaw so saw that eating hurt. It's now largely cleared up, but there's still gunge in there, and I'm out of medication. So it's back to the sawbones.

Anyway, with the ear ache at it's peak, I had to do some work on rentacoder. But the assessment that I got was fantastic ("Very knowledgeable and pleasant to work with." - makes you wonder if I'm the same spod y'all know, doesn't it? ) and my fourth straight 10/10 on rentacoder.com means I've secured a "Top Coder" icon:a long way from my shaky start; proof that if you persist, you get there. Work from an existing client has also guaranteed me a payment for the end of the month. I'm hoping the government won't dock me too much benefit because my left shoe--still so new that I haven't scuffed the shine off--has cracked across the sole, and needs replacing. But the benefit people were uncertain.*

The search for more permanent work might be looking up – I've been assessing a web site, and the owners are interested in discussing the possibility that I might, perhaps, be taken on as a webmaster, on the kinda terms I could accept (like 20 hours a week). I'd be happy, except I'm too cynical to believe it will really happen, and the job involves managing over 100 web sites in an indeterminate state. (Me: BTW Do you realise (a) you have unsecured access to your entire customer database, including names, addresses, emails-addresses and unencrypted passwords and (b) that your hard disk is in its death throws? Them: Ah, "no" and "no".) So it's been about as much fun as counting worms in an open can. And exhausting, too; which and means I haven't made many job applications. Still, despite a sleepless night before-hand, the job centre people were happy. And the school lab-tech job I didn't get has been readvertised - and they've put my application back into the Top Hat^H^H^H^H selection process.

However the week's top disappointment came on Sunday, with the rejection of a short story I'd submitted for publication. (PM me, if you wanna read it.) That was the one thing I'd of liked to have gone in my favour. But now I've re-read it, I realise it wasn't dsserving enough; infact I wrote it in full knowledge that it was the kinda short story I hate – but when you're in the desert and thirsty, you'll drink muddy water. And it's opened up a new stylistic direction to explore with a more deserving idea. So with patience and determination, I'll get there. Pretty much like reading this blog. :lol:

* UPDATE: I've had a letter telling me my benefit is changing from £60.50 to £60.50 (yes, you read that right), so I'm probably getting to keep the money. :)

² UPDATE2: Darn it, I understand something interesting has actually happened on Big Brother. ;)

So here's my dilema: the job centre have instructed me to apply for a job which rakes in £30-grand a year for 37 hours a week. Sounds great doesn't it?

But I can get by on around £10-grand a year as I have no car, kids or mortgage. And as I'd rather have the free time, why can't I work 12 hours a week and get paid £10k per anum? (Actually, I'd opt to work a little longer so I could swap the hour of walking, waiting, trains, more waiting and buses for 20 minutes of motoring.)

It's this unaspirational mentality that keeps me stuck on the outside applying for jobs I'll never get while the baboons knit the .NASTY security flaws.

Fortunately this particular job requires knowledge of "mobile devices", and I don't even own a mobile phone, so I feel my chances of getting it are selnder. However I may not be so fortunate with the one piled underneath it. :(

* Thanks to Telkiar for the fabulous title. As my long-standing friends know, I could never be baboon in a suit because, even though I can be a baboon, I don't own a suit.

Remember this blog about a security flaw in a job web site? Well, it turns out pink unicorns don't exist: because after two months the bug still hadn't been fixed. So I threatened to tell the press. (Well I did tell one tech site, but security flaws are two-a-penny so they weren't interested.) I hadn't got round to tempting the local press (those who've been following this blog will understand why). But hey, the job web site has just stuck its lawyers on me. I'm in elated shock. Yes! They've set their lawyers on me - I'm going up in the world! I've gotta sit down and carefully read the reply and check if the hole still exists. And if it is still there, well, hey we're gonna have some fun. :lol: Update1: Yey! The hole is still there. :lol: Update2: I've replied, setting out the facts in more detail, and giving them till 5pm to come up with a timetable. Update3: And in the afternoon I realised monday was a bank holiday, :oops: so I extended it to 5pm tues.

"You wouldn't want to work in a school anyway.", said the woman behind the Job Centre desk. "Why not?", I asked. "Well...all those screaming kids..." She wrinkled her face disapprovingly. This civil servant was all faded glory and cigarette wrinkles. She reminded me of a pub landlady, and had a similar ruthless streak – keen to force me on and out as soon as she was satisfied I'd met all the requirements. So despite the sun folding away its fan of clouds and shining so hard its rays beat the sweat out of me, I didn't come out the job centre laughing this fortnight. But that's led me to a realisation: the way to get more people off benefit would be to hire three times as many staff, and then sit down every claimant with a cup of tea or a can of something fizzy, and just have a natter over a few chocolate biscuits and maybe a couple of jammy dodgers. Because despair falls like autumn leaves in that place. And I've not yet seen anyone in there who looks like a scrounger (except me :lol: ). And getting people to believe in themselves is half the battle.

Monday. The move out completed; and I attended a pre-agreed welcoming party for someone else all evening. Tuesday. Quiet day, recovering and getting used to being on own during day again. Wednesday. Cat deteriorated rapidly in the afternoon, had to be put down. Not a dry eye in the house. The queens have a reputation as better pets, but the toms are underrated - this one was a real character, demanding of affection. He suffered a problematic afternoon, struggling to walk and unable to settle and go to sleep or enjoy attention. But shortly after we'd arranged the trip to the vet he started purring. He was alert all the way down - still had his marbles. But after the anaesthetic he curled up and fell asleep and died instantly. Still bleary thinking about it. Thursday. The war of paperwork for my benefit continues with a new salvo. Then in the afternoon I attend the funeral and wake for my friend. To be brutally honest it was easier than the cat. Friday. Interview - really tough; unlike the last one this one felt open. But despite my attempt to find hope in previous blog, they again wanted someone with classroom experience. Why do they interview me? More schools jobs applied for so I'll ask at the next interview. :lol: Saturday. Oops better do that work. Prep another school tech job which I just discovered that closes monday... Phew.. At times like this you've gotta dig deep. It's easy enough to curl up in a ball. But problems rarely get solved by running away or throwing up your hands and saying "I can't do it". In situations like this you have to dig deep, find extra energy and reattack. The universe will wear you down till you have nothing left and then ask for more. And if, kicking, and screaming, and crying tears of pain, you can find that extra, then you stand a chance of succeeding. It's likely writing: there are no prizes for an unfinished story.

I've got another interview for another school tech job on Friday. (Still 20 hours; 5 min further down the road; £1000 per annum more :lol: ) But I'm sweating it over the 3pm timing of the interview:

For the previous job, they interviewed the candidates and then made their decision the same day. So does being last for this new interview mean I'm the preferred candidate - the one to whom they're planning to offer the job if everybody meets their expectations? Or is it a negative indicator - does anybody do anything except go through the motions at 3pm on a Friday? Or is the timing meaningless - just alphabetical order, or the way the PA drew the names from the hat? (And did anybody else notice the parallel with looking at events in the world and pondering if their is some deeper meaning – a divine providence?)

Anyway, it's something to show the job centre. And if it falls through, then the Library are offering another job - one that's slightly higher up the food chain ("supervisor" rather than "assistant".) But that's another 5 minutes further to walk!

...Mmmm Triple-DES, my favourite.

I scored ~£20 on Saturday morning for writing 5 lines of Perl (to implement some cryptography, hence the title). And that meant I could look the job centre staff in the eye when I signed on for the first time yesterday. It also meant I broke their forms when we tried to declare my earnings. (Are you meant to come out the job centre grinning from ear to ear? )

There's a lot going on here - people moving out, friends who were expected to live months collapsing and dying - so its hard to understate the value of that £20. It means I'm still functional in the eyes of the world. It means there's hope. (It helped, too, that it was a beautiful day with #0000ff skies and an indefatigable breeze; who wants to work on a day like that? Set to be another fine one today.)

But now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and research a friend's favourite hymn by looking through piles of old magazines.

I live in the dandelion suburbs of a swelling provincial town, where, except for fading anti-war slogans and rampant tagging, graffiti is rare. So I was beside-myself to see "FIGHT FOR UR RIGHT 2 B WHITE" sprayed-painted on a block of garages, as well as a couple more discriminatory slogans in other prime locations. It's racist filth and I just wanted to register my protest against it; this should be a green and pleasant land, not a white desert.

I write this, sitting around waiting to go to an interview for a job of "ICT" technician at a local school. Everyone here is cockahoop - except me. But the job ticks most of my boxes:

• it's within walking distance, so no rush hour commute and no transportation costs;
• only-twenty hours a week, term-time - but I end up with roughly the same take-home pay as for the library job, because its higher paid.

The work is spread across every day, whereas I'd rather have had whole days off, and not had my holidays coinicide with the autoteaches'. But that's all that's wrong with it - apart from it being a permanent job. However it will be a fixed, predictable income to work round. I spent yesteday trying to find a suit in the charity shops - but they all seem to have given up selling men's clothing. I found one or two ill fitting jackets, but I'll save my money and hope that shirt and tie are smart enough; I'm going to have to buy some clothes anyway. Things here had got relativity calm - the planned move-out still hasn't happened due to someone being overly optimisitc. (See, have faith.) But its going to happen end of this month - so we're in the brown sticky stuff. My finger crossed that we can find a way through – hopefully I'll get this job and start it next week. I managed a contract at the end of last month on Rentacoder - horribly underpaid but it sured-up my savings until that money went on emergencies. Maybe that will bring a light at the end of the tunnel.