Sponge Me To Hell

My last 7 days seem to have been rather action-packed: from cuddling a newborn baby; watching horror films on Hallowe'en (Dario Argento's 1977 masterpiece Suspiria & Sam Raimi's 2009 hilarious Drag Me To Hell); and venturing to the seafront, fully waterproofed, to frolic in a storm; to learning a new dance move (the Dame Judi); being deafened by bangers at Lewes Bonfire; and signing on.

Yes, that's right, signing on. I've finally succumbed to sponging off the government. I did attempt to do this back in February, but received some very confusing communications and mixed messages. The claim was denied but I never really knew if this was because I'd left my job voluntarily, was living with a partner or hadn't paid enough NI contributions (what, after 10 years of working my butt off in an office? Come on!) Anyway, for whatever reason, I wasn't given any help and felt somewhat let down by the system I'd been pouring money into for years. There was also a sense of relief, though, in not having to spend time and energy every fortnight trying to prove I was looking for a job I didn't want.

However, now that I've tried again (well, 9 months is rather a long time to be "between jobs"), I've been pleasantly surprised. Not only has my claim for Jobseeker's Allowance gone through this time, but the friendly advisor I spoke to actually considered my desire to become a freelance writer/copyeditor/proofreader a valid career path. This means I can now spend my time and energy looking for work that I do want and get paid (a bit) for it in the process. Result!