I have not been sleeping very well. At one point last night, I sat bolt upright, blinded by a flash of inspiration regarding the job I went for yesterday. They're having a complicated scheduling nightmare and I came up with a rather creative solution in my sleep. I hope I get a second interview so I can share it with them. Having dreams about a job that's not yet mine is probably a sign that I'm ready to go back to work.
Don't get me wrong, I'm loving all the afternoon naps (the most likely cause of being so restless), and was thrilled to discover yesterday that Diagnosis Murder is back on BBC1 now that Wimbledon has finished, but it's not exactly stimulating the brain, is it?
And then there's the constant worry about how I'm going to pay my bills now that I am down to my last £100.
And before anyone suggests it, no I can't take the Kurt Geiger shoes back because I've worn them now.
I hate being stressed out about money. You've either got it or you haven't. But that attitude isn't going to prevent me from defaulting on the mortgage.
So I've spent this morning filling out the dreaded insurance claim form, which I can all but guarantee they will get out of paying because I took "voluntary" redundancy. Something I've now come to regret but at the time I didn't really feel like I had a choice. As I mentioned before, the consultation process was due to end on my wedding day, and I had visions of myself, rollers in hair, under the dryer, getting The Phone Call:
"Hi, yes, I'm afraid it's bad news. You are getting made redundant. Have a great wedding and honeymoon though!"
I also knew that out of myself and my 19 colleagues, 14 of us were going to get the boot, so there was a pretty strong chance I would be one of them. Plus I clearly had NO IDEA it was going to be this ridiculous trying to get another job.
I've had to come up with some quick money-making schemes to get a bit of money in the bank before the mortgage is due at the start of August. Here are my initial ideas, I'll let you know how they pan out, and if anyone has any other suggestions, please let me know!
Reclaiming Bank Charges
Apparently if you are in hardship, your request has to be processed immediately. Fortunately / unfortunately for me, prior to being jobless I was actually quite good at paying bills so this won't generate much income but might still be worth a try?
Car Boot Sale
One woman's tat is another woman's treasure. Plus, Mr G would be overjoyed if I finally cleared out some of my crap and made a bit of cash from it in the process. Win/Win Situation, surely?
Professional Competition Entrant
But I am dyspraxic so sudoku is out. And I can't afford the stamps.
Sell Old Mobile Phones
I've counted about 7 around the house, and I'm being taunted by those constant TV adverts. It sounds too good to be true. It probably is. We'll find out!
Sell a Story to a Tabloid
This rather depends on one of my former boyfriends becoming famous in the next 15 days. Stranger things have happened...
Sell the Wedding Photos
I'm not too sure you get paid for this... But I'd still love to see them in Cosmo Brides, so I'm going to do it anyway.
Sell a "Real-Life" Story
I've been dining off the hilarious tale of me sledging off a cliff for several years now. I'm going to tout it out to Pick Me Up Magazine, complete with gruesome photos.
Sell my Body
Sadly, I doubt I'd earn very much from this (especially with all the comfort eating of late) and knowing my luck, would get busted for tax evasion or something daft like that.
Sell my Writing
This is actually something I've been trying to do for a while but I'm not too sure how to go about it and if I even stand any chance. My correspondence with The Herald staff is bordering on harrassment but I'm not sure where else to go. I could do some freelance stuff? I'm sure professional writers up and down the country are choking on their biscuits right now! But if anyone can help with this, please let me know
Use the Blog to BLAG
I tried this on Friday with disasterous consequences. I went out for a friend's birthday and the plan was to go to one of our favourite Plymouth nightspots, which I now shall not name...
Spurred on by my 2,000 blog views, I gave them a call to barter a mention here in return for free entry, and I can only assume I got the wrong number and called an exclusive Soho nightspot as I was told in no uncertain terms "We don't operate like that, darling". Which is especially funny as one of my friends got free entry there only last week, dressed as a Playboy Bunny. But never mind. We went somewhere else instead and had so much fun B was sick into her hand!
I also tried to charm my way into free drinks from a barman, using the iPhone (note to self: dangerous to take on a night out) to prove I was indeed The Un-Working Girl. He refused.
I'm still not convinced this was because he was unimpressed about the blog, rather that he was unable to translate THIS into English:
"I've gotthish thing, iss called a blog! D'you know wo a blog is? Ere it issssh, look! Looh! Oooh thass an iphoneee. Issh goh 2 foushand readerssss. Redundant...wedding. Ere look at my weddin ring, betcha din fink I was old enough to be married! Hahahahahahahahaha. How old dyou fink I am? Hahahahahahaha Go on! Do I know you? Free drinks? Yeah?"
Back to the drawing board, I think.