That's not a compliment

Written for Blogging Against Disablism Day 2012.



I try to keep my personal and professional identities separate. When people ask me what I do, and they are potential friends rather than potential clients, I tend to grin and rather flippantly tell them that I write blethers for other people's websites. That's not all of what I do, not by a long way, although it's the favourite part of my job – it's interesting, I'm good at it, and I often enjoy it. But let's face facts, the question “what do you do?” rarely means “please describe to me in detail everything you do with your day,” rather it means “tell me something that will fill this conversational gap, and possibly help me to build my mental image of you.” Telling them with a smile that I write blethers for other people's websites is a short, good-humoured and effective way of filling this hole with the image of a woman who spends her day working in an office, at a computer, the image equivalent of a Visa card, acceptable everywhere.

What does that have to do with disablism? Well, it's about where the conversation will go from there.

Often people feel compelled to congratulate me. Good ways of congratulating a person include phrases like “Hey, that's great!”, “it must be so rewarding to have a job you enjoy,” or even “I wish I could do something like that!”

Unfortunately all too frequently I hear something along the lines of “Great! At least you're doing something with your time, not like all those lazy benefit spongers, half of them aren't what I'd call disabled anyway, I mean if you're doing it, why aren't they?” Often this is followed by an anti-welfare rant rounded off with a baseless assertion that “most” disabled people “won't even try,” and a final verbal pat-on-the-head to me for “giving it a go.”

TOP TIP. The way to compliment me is not to disparage the entire minority group to which I belong. Treating my work, where people pay me money for my skills, as nothing more than a time-filler is also insulting. Furthermore, it would be good if you can avoid waving around the negative stereotypes and slurs which have been applied to me and my disabled friends on a regular basis for the last few years, and while we're at it, please don't attack the welfare system which quite literally saved my life by keeping a roof over my head and food on my table for the first couple of years when I got sick.

I'm one of the lucky ones, and I don't want the price of that luck to be ignoramuses trying to use me as a stick to beat down the people who have not been as lucky in similar situations.

If you want to imagine the future...

In my last post I spoke about how, thanks to my particularly fortunate circumstances, I should not be too severely affected by the proposed cuts in the Coalition's Comprehensive Spending Review.

I wrote that in the same frame of mind as a parent might hug their warm, safe, living children after hearing about a fatal school bus accident. It's okay. I'm okay. The bad things happened to someone else. It's terrible, but it was someone else.

That emotion dealt with, it's time to acknowledge that I am not so unaffected as I would like to believe. This is difficult for me to post as it involves hard truths not just about my condition but also my business and my relationship, but Bendygirl's video has persuaded me that it needs to be said.

Hard truth #1 is that I am dependent, physically and financially, on my partner. I contribute to the household in the ways that I can, but ultimately, he's providing for me.

I work, yes. I worked for a company for just over two years and now I've been self-employed for about eight months. I have a growing base of satisfied customers, I pay National Insurance, I will be doing a tax return, and each month, the business expenses are met with a bit left over. Go me!

Unfortunately, much as I hate to admit it, hard truth #2 is that the bit left over isn't a very big bit, and nor were my earnings while I was PAYE. It's always been well under £8,000 per year. I simply can't work very many hours and I'm not in a position to raise my rates.

So the long and short of it is that if my relationship fails, meaning that I am no longer housed and supported by someone else, I will have to wind up the business and seek help from the state until such time as I am able to find employment that pays enough for me to live on without demanding more than I am physically able to give.

A lovely big squishy truth now - my relationship is fine. That's why we're planning a wedding. Excuse me while I cuddle that truth for a little while.

I do feel, though, that part of what makes the relationship fine is that we both know we could leave at any time. I'm not with him just because he can pay the bills. We started our relationship in the knowledge that we can both survive as single adults - we choose to be together, every single day. It's not nice to think of exit strategies, but at least I knew that if something unthinkable happened - for example, if he were to hit me or to announce that he was leaving - I would be able to get a taxi to a friend's house and then start phoning Social Services for support. I would be able to claim money for food on an emergency basis, I would have a few hundred quid in savings to see me through for the first week or so, I would have help to apply for income replacement benefits, and thanks to my DLA status I would have to be put in appropriate accommodation.

This is no longer the case.

The Coalition are aiming to reduce the number of DLA claimants by 20% (600,000 people). That's all very well, but the rate of fraud on that particular benefit is just 0.5% (about 15,000 people), which means that there are 585,000 people who are legitimately claiming, whose conditions have not changed, and yet who are going to get kicked off a benefit which is frankly a lifeline. Believe me when I say the bar is already set quite high for who can and cannot get DLA - it's not awarded for minor illnesses. Remember the official disability facts and figures? There are 11 million disabled people in the UK and yet only 3 million of them get DLA. Long-time readers will remember all the trouble I had with my DLA appeal a couple of years ago. Spending the best part of a year trying to fight the system while also trying to cope without the money. It's not to be had for the asking.

(It should also be reiterated that this shifting of the goalposts purely a cost-cutting exercise. DLA has nothing to do with whether a person works or not. Many DLA claimants are in work and paying tax. In many cases, it is their award of DLA that allows them to buy the care and equipment that enables them to continue working.)

If I were to lose my DLA, it's not just the money that would disappear. All sorts of things go with it - daft stuff you wouldn't necessarily think of, like help getting your water if there's an emergency and your street is put on a standpipe, or eligibility for things like Disabled Person's Railcards.

Let's be positive, though, and assume I keep it. Next, I'd need income replacement benefit. This would be ESA, the benefit that is being phased in to replace the old Incapacity Benefit. ESA divides into two groups. One is for people who are never likely to be able to work - mostly people with terminal illnesses with only a few months left to live. This group get full and unconditional benefit for as long as they are ill (in other words, until they die or a miracle occurs). It's a small group - currently about 6% of claimants. The other group is for those who, with support, would be capable of some work, and their receipt of the benefit is dependent on them fulfilling "work-related activities" such as voluntary placements or work experience placements...

Actually that's not quite true. There's a third group for ESA. The third group is those very definitely disabled people whose conditions don't quite fit the boxes. Those with fluctuating conditions. Those who would be considered capable of "mobilising" fifty metres if they had an appropriate wheelchair, even if they do not in fact have such a wheelchair, nor any way of obtaining one. These people are put onto normal Jobseekers' Allowance with all the hoops and hurdles thereof, and drop out of all disability monitoring at the DWP. No specialist support. No reasonable adjustments. Just sanctions if you do not sign on or if you do not apply for enough jobs.

Assume, then, that I would get either work-related activity ESA, or that I would be discarded onto JSA. Finally, I have to find somewhere to live, and this is where it gets really tricky.

First of all, as a person under 35 I would only be eligible for a room in a shared house. Sharing a house is a tricky prospect for a disabled person. You need the people you live with to be able to understand about your disability. You need them to understand, even when drunk, that your mobility aids and assistive items aren't their toys and that you really do need a proper sleep schedule. You need to be able to get help to fulfil your share of the chores, and Social Services do not provide help with housework for people who live with "able-bodied adults". I wouldn't last five minutes.

Of course, you also might need certain adaptations to the property. That's expensive and I doubt councils will fund much of it. So maybe that would mean not having to enter a house-share because it's not physically appropriate. Which means we're looking at temporary accommodation in (a) a hospital or (b) a hotel with an accessible room. It could happen, but it'd be expensive. Perhaps a better solution would be care homes? I don't require nursing care, but it would be a room, and it would be accessible, and the other people would understand my situation.

Heh. Well, yes. That's a solution. It's already a solution for many people. Live in a care home. They remove all your income replacement benefit, and they remove all of your DLA care component, and then they give you £20 a week of "pocket money" to cover anything that's not basic food and bills. Shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, makeup? Pocket money. Clothes and shoes? Pocket money. A laptop computer to enable you to communicate with the world? Pocket money. These things could be considered luxuries, but would YOU employ someone without them?

DLA mobility component is different. People can use that however they see fit. Some people hand it all over and get a leased Motability adapted vehicle. Some people use it to hire or purchase a mobility scooter. Some people use it to cover the difference between what the NHS will pay for a wheelchair, and the price of a wheelchair they can actually use. Some people pool it with others in their care homes to fund an accessible minibus. Some people keep it and use it for taxi fares so that they can do things like, ooh, go into town and sign on or do Work Related Activity as part of their ESA/JSA requirements.

The Coalition intend to axe DLA mobility component for people in care homes. Adapted cars, taxi fares, and in many cases, wheelchairs, GONE. When challenged, the government said that local authorities should be providing transport and daytime activities for disabled people in care homes. These would be the same local authorities who have been told to reduce their spending by 25%...

So if the Coalition's plans are successful, then for the next seven years at least (until I am 35), my choices are to stay with Steve, or to attempt to bounce on a welfare safety net that will be so small as to be negligible. Can I still honestly say that we live together out of choice, when my best case breakup scenario will be either virtual imprisonment in a care home, or living out of a suitcase in a cheap hotel? Ironically, the additional pressure this puts on my relationship only increases the chance of it turning sour. And since neither of those situations are going to enable me to pick up the threads of my life and move towards getting back into employment, it makes me even more likely to remain benefit-dependent for longer.

I say again, for myself as much as for the people reading this, that my relationship with Steve is stable and loving and going nowhere. In that respect I am more lucky than many disabled people who find themselves increasingly dependent on their partners. But one thing you learn with adulthood-acquired disability is that life can change in an instant - I'm scared that the safety net which caught me once, and which I may rely on to catch me again, is being removed.

Prepared

I knew there was a reason I'd put so much time and effort into getting ready for Christmas well ahead of time... we went to a big family meal with a handful of children small portable germ warfare agents present, and now Steve and I are both suffering from Winter Lurgy. Yesterday in particular was hideous, with a mother of a migraine that actually made me throw up (usually they only make me feel nauseous).

Thankfully, having everything sorted out already, along with me not being "at work", has meant that I've been able to properly rest up every day so I'm nothing like as floored as I would be if I was still thrashing myself to pack CDs. Since I'm not that wiped out, I'm able to tackle a bit more of the household stuff than I otherwise would, which in turn gives Steve half a chance to recover when he staggers in from work.

It does mean I've had to put the business development stuff on hold. Again. Yup, the hopes and dreams I had for that referral to the Council for Disabled People being the business development support I needed were unfounded. It turns out that this particular project is set up to help "voluntary and community organisations supporting disabled people" rather than helping disabled people set up businesses that intend to serve anyone, disabled or otherwise. It was a completely inappropriate referral and all we can guess is that the person who referred me was just panicking and opting for the first project with "disability" in the title.

So I'm pretty much figuring it out on my own now, with some helpful printouts from Business Link and any number of PDFs on the HMRC website. Most of the basics are in place - including, today, the good news that my PO Box will be up and running at the beginning of the year - but I have kind of lost momentum. I think I may be best off calling it a proper Christmas/New Year holiday and picking it up again after my birthday.

Also in the New Year, I'll be interviewing for a new PA, as the lady who has been working with me this year has gone on Maternity Leave. I'm quite hopeful, and a lot more confident now that this is the second time going through the recruitment process.

Despite the various setbacks, I'm still feeling really positive about things, and as usual I'm very much looking forward to Christmas. So let's round off with my really awful snapshot of my really lovely Tree.

(edit to add title!)

I am that good

Feeling rather pleased with myself at the moment.

I've more or less stopped flustering and panicking about self-employment (remember that five weeks ago the concept hadn't crossed my mind) and I'm making good, steady progress towards being set up and ready to go. I've completed about half of the online business course, and about two-thirds of my business plan. I've taken care of a number of practical issues (things like the VOA assessment for whether I'd have to pay business rates) and I have some sensible questions to ask the advisor I'm meeting with this week. I've picked a name, set up an email address, installed a suite of office software, done some market research, got some quotes for logo-type artwork... the list goes on*.

On top of this, I'm also ready for Christmas. Steve's having a bit of a trying time at work right now and tends to come home with his brain dribbling out of his ears, so I took charge. Step one, I made a list of people we should buy presents for and a list of people we should send cards to. Once he'd approved these, step two, I wrote out all the cards for him to add his signature. Step three, we determined who we were likely to see during December and dug up addresses for the others, and I sorted out the envelopes all nice and ready for the postbox. Step four was a list of suggested gifts from online retailers for almost everyone on the present list, approved and purchased.

Step five was an actual shopping-centre trip to dig up gifts for those we hadn't found anything for online. Step six, I've been wrapping and labelling the gifts as they have come into the house. We are now at a point where the completed boxes of wrapped presents have been dispatched to the people we're not going to be seeing this year, and there are a couple of plastic boxes of wrapped presents and a stack of cards ready for the people we are planning to see.

We are, in fact, all set for Christmas, which is pretty good considering that we're still in the first week of December. Steve isn't sure whether to be amazed or disturbed, but is presenting it as concrete proof of my abilities to anyone who asks him what it is I'm planning to do and whether I'm any good at it.

*by the way, one of the items remaining on the To Do list is finding someone to hold my hand through the website process. Any takers?

Paid time off

I've worked my last afternoon at work, accepted my leaving card and gift voucher, spent a couple of hours sitting in a pub listening to my erstwhile colleagues talk about things that are now a big old heap of Not My Problem, and now I am on paid holiday time for just over two weeks while I wait for my contract end date and my P45.

Today, at about the time I would otherwise have been getting ready for work, I turned the heating on. When I would have been getting into my taxi, I went upstairs and put some nice essential oils onto an aromatherapy diffuser. Then I ran a bath (big thank you to Steve who scrubbed the tub just for this), added half a bottle of bubbles, put on a CD of meditation music, and settled down for an hour's soak that, technically, I was being paid for. Bliss.

Of course there's only so much time you can spend gazing at the bathroom ceiling, so as per the advice given on previous posts, I also contacted Business Link to find out what they could offer someone in my position. I think this was a good move. I now have a name for the type of work I'll be doing - Virtual Assistant - which is much easier than "doing admin and officey stuff from home for people who need things doing but don't have the resources for a full-time on-site admin assistant". I'm being sent an information pack about that sort of work; in the meantime my details have been passed to a much more local Business Development Agency who are affiliated with Business Link and should be able to provide more specific support. Above all, they will help me write up a Business Plan, and with a Business Plan, I can get support from Access to Work as a self-employed person, and that opens up all sorts of possibilities.

I'm scared as hell, but apart from that I'm feeling really very positive about the whole thing.

Meanwhile I just keep listing in my head all the things that I don't have to worry about any more. I'll hopefully stop having nightmares where stacks of CDs fall on top of me. I can grow my fingernails, and paint them, without them getting broken and chipped on tape dispensers and dodgy shelving. I'll hopefully be in a lot less pain. I'll be in charge of whether or not I have music on, and if so, what sort of music, and at what volume. It's going to be great.

There is no pause button on my life.

I feel that this is an appalling oversight on the part of the manufacturers. Still, what do we do?



So, I've resigned from my job and the final details have been ironed out. I officially finish at the end of this month, but I have quite a chunk of annual leave left to use up so my last actual working day is Tuesday 10th November.

My handy printout from the nice lady who does the payroll confirms that I only had one and a half days off sick in the last 12 months, which is way below average, even pro rata, and should be a jobsearch asset. I turned myself inside out to keep it that way and I'm so glad I didn't have to screw it up at the end by getting signed off.

It still stings quite a bit that leaving the job wasn't entirely my choice - I could have stayed another few months but would have been trying to work (a) without any additional support or equipment to deal with the increased demands, and (b) in the explicit knowledge that I was not wanted there. But I am still convinced that my decision to not attempt to drag it through the courts is the right one. I would rather use my energy on dealing with the necessities of life (considers another YouTube clip, decides against it) and have a bit left over for, you know, enjoying myself.

I have managed to complete my draft answers for my DLA form, which this time round is just over 19,000 words. It saved a lot of typing that I already had my answers from last time in electronic form, but it wasn't just a straight copy/paste job because they've shuffled the order of the questions, and merged some questions and split others up differently. Although my needs haven't changed, I also had to change some answers to account for factors like the PA and the social worker that I didn't have last time - for instance, whereas last time I wrote "I would like to go swimming, the help I would need for this is XYZ," this time it was more "When I go swimming my PA helps me with XYZ." The help I need is the same but the context has altered and the form must accurately reflect the current situation.

I've got all of my Social Services paperwork up to date as well, which is a relief after the collision of two separate threads of PA issues and the Monitoring Return. Better yet, the Monitoring Return was approved without query and I don't have to do another one until January.

My Access to Work advisor got back to me, and says that although I'll have to re-apply for support with my job as I switch from PAYE to self-employed, since I'm on the books and my needs haven't changed it should go through quite smoothly. I've prepared my "final" forms for my transport support, ready to be stamped and signed by my soon-to-be-ex-manager on Tuesday.

So, all that stuff dealt with, I think after Wednesday I can properly apply myself to researching things like Business Link and getting everything in place to embark on the self-employed adventure in December.

One question. I hear that when I set up as self-employed, I have to give my 'business' a name. Apparently many people use their own names, but I don't really like my full name and I'm not sure I want it to be google-searchable either. I'll probably end up with a generic [name of business advisory service][client number] combo, but if anyone has any ideas I'd be interested to hear them.

All Change

So, obviously the gods didn't feel like I had enough on my plate with the DLA/CAB stuff and the Social Services stuff and so on, because on Friday, I lost my main job. Sort of.

To start at the beginning... when I started that job, two years ago, the company was a small one and the job mostly consisted of sitting on a perch-stool at a workbench, selecting and scanning CDs, packaging them up with the right address/postage/customs stuff on them, and putting them on a shelf depending on which part of the world they were being sent to. The CDs I needed were mostly within reach of the workbench, but four or five times a day, an order would come up containing a CD that was on a shelf on the other side of the room. Excitement! Sometimes there would be some sort of special request or larger order to sort out, but mostly, that was it, until the end of the day when my colleague would put the packages we'd done into mail sacks, weigh them, and I'd put the information into the Royal Mail website ready for the postie to come and collect it all.

However, the company has grown, and with it, so have the demands of the dispatcher job. It's steadily increased over time. Now there are CDs in stock filling floor-to-ceiling shelves in two rooms, orders often weigh in excess of two kilos, and the loft space has been adapted to hold the supplies of flatpacked cardboard boxes that we now have to keep stocked. What has not increased is my ability to walk around or lift heavy things or climb ladders. If I was interviewing for the dispatcher job today, I would be having to apologise to the interviewers for having wasted their time as several aspects of the job are now beyond my capabilities.

On Friday afternoon, about halfway through my shift, I was called out of the packing room and into the boss's office. I was then asked to look for another job as the changed dispatch role was no longer suitable for me.

I was promised a fantastic reference but told that there were no roles available within the company that might be more suitable for me, and that it wasn't fair to the other dispatchers if I was doing all the less physically demanding parts of the job. I was thanked for all my hard work.

Head spinning with shock, I offered that I could learn to do just about anything, or I could ask an Access to Work Occupational Therapist to come in and see if any further adjustments could be made... but their minds were made up. Hard work, much appreciated, excellent worker, no complaints, glowing reference, not being given notice as such, but role no longer appropriate, please seek alternative employment soonest.

As an employer of a PA, I'm quite certain that for a conversation like that an employee is supposed to be advised in writing at least 48 hours beforehand and told they're allowed a representative with them. However it will surprise no one that instead of imperiously standing up and berating them for this laxity of procedure, I whimpered that I understood and asked if I could be excused to go and sit by myself for a few minutes to get my head around things.

But there's only so long you can spend sniffling in the Ladies loo and of course I can't independently leave the building - I need to wait for my taxi to turn up. So I went and packaged CDs for another hour and a half. What else could I do?

Options:

I could get signed off sick, as it is my poor health that means I cannot manage the changed job role. However, this means I would also have to stop doing my second job as well, and would screw up my lower-than-average sick-day record which would have an impact on my future employability. Also, just the thought of trying to deal with ESA makes me feel sick.

I could find another job, suitable for my abilities, with hours that suit me, that pays more than benefits rate and is prepared to take on a disabled person. In a recession, in a town where this week the paper reported there are six Jobseekers (ie healthy people on JSA) for every vacancy listed at the Jobcentre. Hahahahaha.

I could keep working until such time as they do actually outright fire me. However it is an understatement to say that since the "discussion" I have now lost the sense of loyalty and motivation that was making me put myself in more and more pain and swallow more and more drugs to try and keep up with my job.

So I took the initiative and on Tuesday, I resigned.

Dignity and self-respect more or less intact, a certain amount of annual leave to use up during my notice period, they don't have to try and accommodate me any more, and I don't have the unpleasantness of trying to work at a place I know wants me gone.

Once I finish my notice and have my P45, then I'll also technically resign my second job and set up as a self-employed person. I'll continue doing the second job, but instead of submitting a timesheet and having my employer do the PAYE thing, I'll invoice my employer for the hours worked and pay my own tax and NI. My earnings will be very low, but Steve has agreed to support me while I look for another "main" job so that I don't half-kill myself doing Christmas temping.

If anyone who reads this does the self-employed thing and can recommend a person or organisation that can do a bit of hand-holding when I do my first tax return, that would be appreciated.

And then the rain came down

Things have suddenly become Busy here in the land of Mary. Let's see, where were we up to...

The Second Job has started and is going well. Access to Work agreed that I should have an ergonomic keyboard and mouse, which I bought and they should be refunding at the end of this month. I also explained about how I would be mostly working at home but would occasionally need transport to go to what you might call Company Headquarters, in order to be shown how to do things, or given materials to work with, or to speak to my manager in person. So instead of being approved for "up to 10 journeys a week" (eg five trips To and five trips From work) like I am for my main job, I've been approved for "up to 104 journeys a year", which on average is a To and a From each week, but acknowledges that my working pattern is very, very flexible.

I had a second attempt at the chocolate cornflake cakes, this time using proper dark cooking chocolate. It worked much better than my Galaxy/cocoa powder/water combination. I'd show you a picture, but we ate most of them at knitting night. It probably would have been all of them but we felt we should save one or two for Steve. I would like to thank the ladies for sincerely congratulating me on my achievement without any sniggering.

I got my Direct Payments Monitoring Return completed and sent off. The stamped printout of the transactions for the period covered by the missing statement never did arrive - no idea whether that's the fault of the bank, or the fault of the Royal Mail, although I know which I think is more likely - so instead I made copies of the wage slip and BACS slip for that month and added a post-it note explaining that the statement was lost in the post, but this is what went in and out of the account and look, it tallies up with the end balance on the previous statement and the start balance on the next one. I'm sure they'll contact me if that isn't good enough.

So yeah, all in all I was feeling pretty proud of myself for keeping on top of it all and having everything ticking over.

And then the rain came down.

In among the self-perpetuating drizzle of increased pain levels because of the damp and cold, and grottiness because of increased painkiller side-effects, and getting frustrated and stressed because the grottiness makes it hard to think and the pain makes it hard for me to move so I can't DO things, and extra pain because the stress makes me tense, round and round and round, are a couple of real thunderclouds.

Firstly, my PA told me of a couple of issues that may affect her ability to work for me. I respect her confidentiality as I expect her to respect mine, so all I'll say on that front is: she's a great PA, I'm happy employing her, she's happy working for me, and it isn't anything that either of us have "done wrong", it's just one of those things. But what I can say is that, as an employer, I'm having to increase the gradient of my learning curve to perilously steep levels in order to keep up with what our respective rights and responsibilities are in this situation. I'm also having to spend a few extra hours on the phone and having meetings during the daytime, which interferes with my ability to save enough spoons for work.

Secondly, it's DLA time again. The form is a new one - shaved down to 40 pages of personal and depressing questions rather than the 50+ it was previously - but from what I can see, this has mostly been achieved by trimming down the spaces given for the non-tick-box questions. For instance, the question about help needed to take part in "hobbies, interests, social or religious activities" used to be close on three pages. Now, they provide two 5cmx16cm boxes, one for activities at home, one for activities when you go out. Which I guess is more than adequate if you don't need much help, but if you don't need much help, why would you be applying for DLA?

So Monday evening will be spent trying to contact the Citizens Advice Bureau by telephone (the local CAB is only manned four days a week, for five hours at a time, most of which I am at work). I'm hoping my combination of disability and having a job will be enough for them to allow me to make an appointment. Obviously I'll have to take time off work for such an appointment, but it would still be much better for me than the usual process where you go to the office and sit in the waiting room for however many hours it takes until someone becomes available, and if they don't become available, you come back the next day. It's not the fault of the CAB, who are staffed by volunteers and chronically underfunded for the amount of support they are meant to provide. But it does make it that little bit more inaccessible for those who need it, and it's another thing that shouldn't be soaking up my limited annual leave allowance.

Every time, this makes me angry. Services and support tend to assume a disabled person has an infinite amount of spare time, energy, money, learning capacity, and administrative ability at their fingertips. Get off benefit! Go to work! Squeeze all this crud in on top! How?

Second Job

Yes, that's right, in these darkened times when there are many more jobseekers than jobs available, I'm being a greedy git and deciding to have TWO at once.

Okay, so they're both part time - the existing one at 17.5 hours a week and the new one at somewhere between "a couple" and "a few" hours - and even the combined pay wouldn't be enough to lift anyone without financial support from a partner out of benefits dependency - but nevertheless.

As you've probably guessed, precise details are at a hazy stage with a start date of "once the paperwork's done", but I've filled in my bit of a P46 and been shown around the system I'll be using so I don't think I'm jumping the gun in considering the job to be a definite thing.

It's very flexible and it's mostly working from home, data entry and envelope stuffing and suchlike, which is why I'm able to take it on. There's no way I could do more hours in my main job, since by the time I crawl into my taxi at the end of an afternoon I am utterly shattered, barely capable of talking, and wincing at every pothole and speedbump on the way home. But the idea with the new job is that once I've got home and had a couple of hours to rest and get a bit of dinner inside me, then if I feel up to it I'll be able to sit up and do anything between twenty minutes and two hours of additional work. And if I don't feel up to it, or if I have something else to do, then I won't. I can stop the clock for a break whenever I need to, and I can take that break in the quiet and comfort of my own home which is so much more effective than trying to screen out the noise and busy-ness of a hectic office. I won't have to force myself to keep going until a taxi arrives, either, which will be nice.

Of course, the first person I called to tell was my mother... of course, her immediate reaction was a comparison to Sister Dearest and her Fabulous Career*. Admittedly I know by now that any phone call to my mother has to include several minutes listening to the praises of SD and her FC being sung, but on this one occasion I really could have done without it - I wanted to play the game where we at least pretend to be proud/congratulatory/encouraging of my hard work and minor accomplishments.

Happily, Steve and my friends are more than capable of bolstering my self esteem when it flags and did a sterling job of being pleased for me. Even my current boss congratulated me, once I'd assured him that it was a second job and I wouldn't be leaving his company (his immediate reaction in the seconds before I'd fully explained that bit thoroughly reassured me that I am valued within the workplace).

I've got a desk set up at home now, complete with two desk tidys, a coaster, and my Sunshine Buddy. I have a wireless mouse but I need a mousemat as it's a glass-topped desk. Well, I say need, it's possible to get by just using a bit of paper. But I'd like a proper mousemat. In fact in an ideal world, I'd like to try one of those ones with a padded bit for your wrist but they seem a bit pricey and I'm not sure how much difference they make. If anyone has any input I'll be happy to hear it.

Access to Work are being their usual cagey selves - you can't determine what help you may or may not be able to get through them until you're fully signed up to the job, have a start date, and have completed an application for support - but I've been told that I am "eligible to apply" for support with this job as well, and have two separate support packages running concurrently, although they'll probably be handled by the same person. I'm hoping to get the same deal on transport (I'll be working from home but I will have to go in every so often) where I pay an amount equivalent to a bus fare, and AtW top it up to a taxi fare because I can't use a bus. Equipment-wise, I'll need to have a good think - as a rule, they'll provide anything that is (a) to be used solely by me, AND (b) an item or a specific version of an item needed because of disability-related reasons. So for instance they won't supply biros but they might supply any of these for someone who has trouble with their hands. Ideas?

* Fabulous Career = working for several large national chains of bookies, encouraging gambling addicts to indulge their addictive behaviour. Since she falls in the narrow margin where she can write her own name but is unable/disinclined to get a different job, she has over the course of several years worked her way up to local management. While I realise I'm hardly a high-flyer myself, I can't get quite as excited and impressed by this as my mother seems to.

Biscuits

When I started work, okay, I was on minimum wage, but I had something that Steve and his high-flying techie friends didn't have. An office kitchen with a "help yourself" policy. While none of the people with 'proper' jobs were really about to take an 80% pay cut and relinquish their daytime internet access just for free tea, coffee, and biscuits, it did make me feel a little bit better. I had a Perk. I didn't have to drink hot coloured water from a plastic cup and pretend it was tea, and I never had to thump a vending machine which had eaten my last twenty pence piece but not dispensed my goodies. No tokens, no cards, no forms, no systems, no unspoken implication that given half a chance the employees would undermine the entire company with our gluttony... just a decent cuppa and a biscuit whenever I felt I wanted one. It must not be underrated.

Then the unthinkable happened. A couple of people went on diets, and the person who had been the most influential in keeping the biscuit cupboard stocked left for another job. I would go to the cupboard and find no biscuits - or worse, I would find half a packet of Custard Creams, which I detest. For the last few months, I've been taking my own snack in my handbag, which isn't a problem, but I did miss my mid-afternoon Perk of biscuitty goodness.

But yesterday! I don't know what compelled me to look in the cupboard, but I did, and lo, there was half a packet of Custard Creams, and... a pristine, unopened packed of chocolate digestives. Dark chocolate digestives. My favourite.

Could be it's the drugs talking - I am having a bit of a time of it and taking more than I otherwise would this week - but that packet of biscuits filled my heart with joy. I suddenly felt a lot more positive about all sorts of things.

Isn't this nice?

Things are ticking over really well at the moment.

The main Thing I want to tell the world about is something I've wanted to say for a couple of months now but haven't dared in case it turned out to be temporary. But it's looking more and more permanent, so here we go: I am no longer actively seeking different employment.

The reason for this is that my role at work has been sort of shuffled. In a good way. The company I work for are doing really quite well at the moment, so we have a lot of orders being placed, lots of stock coming in and packages going out. The 'role creep' kind of started with an increase in the number of packages that had to be sent Signed For or Special Delivery, so instead of spending five minutes a day sitting in the office carefully writing addresses into books and putting barcode stickers onto packages, it was more like half an hour or so. Then we got an arrangement with ParcelForce for the increased numbers of high-value overseas packages, and of course such packages often require more detailed customs declarations than a single CD does, as well as the information having to be correctly entered into the online system. From there it was a short step to assigning me other "office based" tasks - the increased volume of orders and stock throughput means there's a lot more admin to be done and much of it doesn't require a knowledge of classical music, just a reasonable ability with computers and some basic admin skills, which I've already got.

Which brought me to a stage where, of my average four and a half hour working day, I spend about one hour doing ParcelForce and Signed For packages, two hours doing other admin tasks in the office, one hour helping pick and pack CDs in the Despatch room, and half an hour sorting out the documentation for the mail sacks to be collected by Royal Mail at the end of each day. I have a variety of tasks, some more challenging than others, all of which I am capable of performing, and some of which I quite enjoy (for a given value of workplace enjoyment). I am working for a company who took me on as a disabled person (but not because I was a disabled person) and have been 100% supportive of my needs for the eighteen months I've been there. I get to use my brain and yet I also get to wear jeans and trainers to work.

I was applying for other jobs because nice as the company was I didn't want to spend the rest of my life mindlessly putting CDs in boxes. Now it appears I've won the best of both worlds.

And then, cherry on the cake...

One of my regular tasks is to deal with "deletions". This is when a customer orders a CD that we don't have in stock, so we ask a record label supplier to send us a copy, and then they tell us that the title has been deleted from their catalogue and they don't have any copies left. My job is then to remove the deleted title from our system, remove the deleted title from the customer's order, refund the customer's credit card, and email the customer to apologise and explain what has happened. It's a disappointing email. Which is why I find it surprising that a healthy proportion of customers actually bother to email back. Not in a ranty way either, just along the lines of "okay, thanks for letting me know," which for some reason makes me feel really happy - I think it's simply the idea that people have been bothered to be so polite.

Two Ticks

At this time of economic gloom and woe, I am almost embarrassed to report I have landed another job interview.

I am confident that I deserve this interview as I wrote (well, typed, thanks to the accessible glory that is an online application) next to every disability-linked question and every 'if you are shortlisted for interview'-linked question that I was NOT requesting an interview under the Two Ticks scheme* and did NOT want to be shortlisted on the basis of my disability.

My only concern is taking the time off from my existing job to attend the interview, as it's on a day when we tend to be both busy and understaffed at the best of times. I'll have a word with my manager today. I suspect I'll end up stashing jeans and trainers at work the day before, so that I can go in straight from interview and change out of my suit there.

I realise this is really quite a smug position to be in.

*The Two Ticks Scheme

This is a scheme that quite a few large employers sign up to, recognisable by a symbol of two ticks encircled by the tagline "positive about disabled people". The part of it that is relevant here is a pledge that if a disabled candidate has shown on their application that they meet the minimum stated requirements for a job, that candidate gets an automatic interview. This helps, because a lot of disabled people wouldn't make the first cut due to things like:

- one or more long periods of unemployment
- previous employment mostly in an entirely different field
- an unusual pattern of education
- employer prejudices

... the idea being that once a person is in an interview setting, they can better explain and show how they are the right person for the job, how their nonstandard CV is proof of their ability to adapt to situations and overcome obstacles, how they are pleasant and competent individuals who will be an asset rather than a burden to the existing team, and so on. Or indeed not, as the case may be. Either way, the person gets interview practice, hopefully some interview feedback so that they have an idea where they should improve things, and a greater chance of getting a job when their CV might otherwise have gone straight into the bin.

Which is all great, but there's a flipside. Going to an interview takes up time, energy, and money, three things that your average disabled job applicant is not rolling in. You have to get your suit cleaned and your shirt ironed, you have to research the company, practise some answers for likely questions, arrange for a lift or pay for the taxis there and back, you have to deal with spending the 24 hours beforehand feeling utterly queasy with nerves.

If you already work, then it's even worse. You have to have that uncomfortable little discussion with your boss that (s)he might be about to get asked for a reference. You have to worry about whether the knowledge that you applied for another job is going to adversely affect you when it comes to managerial decisions about promotions or redundancies or pay cuts. You have to book time off work, and if that's not possible and the interviewers can't offer a different day, you have to start weighing up abandoning the interview vs throwing a sickie...

All of which might very well be worth it, if there's a genuine chance of getting a decent job at the end of it.

Unfortunately for a Two Ticks candidate, a job will (and must, and should) always go to the person most competent to do that job. If you meet the minimum criteria and turn up for a Two Ticks interview, and five other people (disabled or otherwise) are being interviewed who meet and exceed the maximum criteria, well, you're never going to get that job.

Also unfortunately, nepotism is alive and well and probably always will be. I have seen a couple of jobs where the position was publicly advertised (because it's a requirement of the company policy), the disabled candidates were interviewed (because it's a requirement of the Two Ticks scheme), and then everybody had to try and not look surprised when the position went to, at best, an internal candidate, and at worst, the repugnant offspring of the managing director.

In such situations, the Two Ticks candidate has NO chance of getting the job. All (s)he gets is a lot of expense and hassle and a smidgen of interview experience. Which is fine if interview experience is what you want... but personally, I'd rather only attend interviews where I know I have a reasonable chance of being the one who gets the job.

Edited for grammar 22:27 12/02/09

Welfare Reform

I'm sure many of the people who read this blog will have encountered the stories in the news about James Purnell's work for welfare plans. On the face of it, and to particular types of people (generally the ones who are well educated/spoken/connected/balanced/experienced/etc enough to have never had too much trouble getting a job) the plans seem quite reasonable - "severely disabled people" and single parents of babies under one will be supported, everyone else will have to work for their money. And let's face it, those are the people we want to help with our taxes. We've had quite enough of supporting entire workless families like the Malcolm family who fulfil every stereotype of a feckless wastrel benefit scrounger that you ever heard (seriously, whichever reporter dug that lot up deserves a bloody medal).

Why does it bother me anyway? I have a job. Well, it bothers me because I know how extremely lucky I am to have got into a position where I could look for work, let alone how fortunate I was to actually get a job. I know that all it takes is one factor to slip - Steve and I breaking up, a change in Access to Work criteria, the company I work for to collapse - and all of a sudden I will be back on the scrapheap, and in a jobs market which is terrifying compared to what it was a year ago. It also bothers me because I know too many people who are in similar positions to the one I was in before I moved in with Steve, who would like to be working and earning their own money but simply aren't in a position to manage it.

The first problem is this "severely disabled" idea. The criteria for this is incredibly stringent. The Benefits and Work website has a free Employment and Support Allowance (ESA) self-assessment test. I count as disabled, but not severely enough that my capacity for work-related activity would be considered "limited", which has surprised a couple of people who know me.

It's not just me though. Here's an example from the DWP's own guidance (pdf):

"Customer receiving DLA (middle rate care) and DLA(higher rate mobility). A person with severe rheumatoid arthritis affecting the hands and feet, limiting the ability to walk and needing some help to wash, dress, cut up food, and attend to toileting needs. The customer is living alone and nobody receives Carer’s Allowance for looking after him."

That is an example of someone who is NOT considered to have limited capability to undertake work-related activity.

They cannot walk, dress, wash, eat, or go to the loo unaided, but they are considered to be perfectly able to do full work-related activity. And they will face "sanctions" if they cannot manage it.

How on earth does that work?!?

The second problem is the idea of full-time work-related activity or community work. Regular readers will be aware that I recently had to bow out of a great interview for a job that I really wanted to do at a place where I really wanted to work, just because it was full time. I'd love to earn full-time wages but the unfortunate truth is that I cannot manage to do a full-time job AND keep on top of life's essentials such as showering and eating and so on - as we've covered before, I'm pretty stretched just working part-time.

These new plans, however, would have me "working" 9-5, and facing "sanctions" when I failed to manage it. Which brings us neatly on to the third issue, which is rates of pay.

Basic ESA is £60.50 per week, which is the same as Jobseeker's Allowance for a person over 25 years of age. Then there's £24 on top of it for participating in the Work-Related Activity. I understand this is the bit that gets withdrawn if you "refuse to co-operate" by, for example, being stubbornly too ill to leave the house on more than one morning.

I suspect there are very few people reading this who would consider working full time for £85 a week, but disabled people will have a choice between that and real heat-or-eat poverty. You see, there are two good reasons why Incapacity Benefit at the long-term rate is more than Jobseeker's Allowance. The first reason is that a disabled person generally has to cover more costs than an able-bodied person. DLA (supposedly) accounts for the additional personal-care-related and mobility-related costs, for instance Meals on Wheels and taxi fares, but there are also increases in general costs - things like having to do more laundry due to frequently spilling things, buying more trousers because they wear through at the knees as you crawl around your home, or having to have an internet connection because you do not have the capacity to get to and around the local shops nor the supermarket for your essential groceries. The second reason is that it generally takes longer for a disabled person to secure a job, during which time they will have more household expenses of the sort that the able-bodied person on short-term JSA could defer until they'd got a job. I'll explain. Even putting aside issues of access and discrimination at the interview stage... let's say that the odds of getting a job are one in a hundred, so if you apply for a hundred jobs you will get one of them. While an able-bodied person could, technically, apply for every job in the paper that they were qualified for and hit the hundred in a few weeks, a disabled person with the same level of qualifications will only be able to apply for the few jobs that also match their physical capabilities - it could take a year or more to find a hundred suitable jobs to apply for during which time the boiler will still need repairing and the wheelchair will need a service.

Even Reasonable Adjustments and Access to work can't make everything possible. A reminder of a post I made before I got my job:

"I still have certain limitations. The obvious physical symptoms of my illness rule out quite a lot of things, especially in terms of the usual easy-to-get minimum-wage flexible-hours jobs. I don't think I'm in any way 'above' cleaning toilets or serving fast-food or collecting trolleys from a supermarket carpark, but I would do such an ineffective job of those tasks that really, another person would have to be employed just to pick up my slack."

Which brings me to my final point. Even with the job that I do, which looked possible enough to make it worthwhile applying, it costs quite a bit of money to keep me in work. I need taxis to and from work. There are no other transport options available to me so the taxpayer contributes about £40 a week to my taxi fares (I pay the rest). I also have a special machine, a mechanical press, bought by the taxpayer as I cannot use the hand-press my co-worker uses. That was £500. Other people need different things - Lilwatchergirl needed a wheelchair, an office chair, an ergonomic keyboard and mouse, and a PDA; Lady Bracknell's Editor needed a laptop and "Secure Remote Access System" to enable her to work from home when necessary, plus however many man-hours were required to untangle the inevitable snarl-ups; various other people have required voice recognition software or Braille displays or even actual human assistants to help with certain parts of their work. That's before we even get started on the costs of things of uncertain merit like DEAs and Remploy. All things considered, I suspect there are more than a couple of us who cost more money "working" than they did claiming IB. How will the costs of enabling us to attend and accomplish "work-related activity" be met on top of paying full ESA?

I don't have all, or indeed any of the answers, but what I have heard so far about the reforms strikes me as badly-thought-out and more than a little scary.

Interview Fail

I had my interview this morning. It was basically the job I'd interviewed for back in the summer, same interviewers and everything. It lasted about three minutes - a very good and positive three minutes, it must be said, although it mostly concerned the weather and how much nicer it had been on the previous occasion - before it became apparent that we were talking about a full-time position, 37 hours a week.

I cannot do 37 hours a week. I wish I could but there is no Reasonable Adjustment in the world that would make it possible.

I don't know what happened. I apply for all the part-time admin jobs on the website, but never the full-times because I know I can't do it. Maybe I misread or mis-clicked. Maybe they'd left a part-time designator on the title by mistake. Maybe it was a callback of candidates from the previous (part-time) post in the summer. Who knows. Upshot was, I'd got myself geared up and excited about things and suddenly I was in an interview for a job that I could not possibly manage.

If there is one thing I hate more than "not being able to do things that I want to do because of my disability", it is "having to admit to other people that I cannot do something."

As I explained to the interviewers that I would not be able to do a full-time job and apologised for having wasted their time, all the adrenalin and good-outcome visualisations that had me psyched up and positive and confident for the interview got snarled up in the crushing sensation of having to admit my inadequacies. God knows what my face must have looked like.

The interviewers were being really nice about it, and the nicer they were, the worse it got - I wanted to just shake hands and find a bolt-hole where I could cry for a minute and then recompose myself, but they could see I was disappointed and embarrassed and they were offering me a drink and asking if I was sure I would be okay to get home, because if I had a lift arranged they didn't mind me sticking around for a while, and did I want to call anyone...

Then I tried to stand up, fumbled my walking stick, it fell away from me and I tried to bend down but I couldn't, and one of the interviewers passed it to me, and I just felt smaller and smaller and smaller.

Scuttled into the loo on my way out, had my minute of crying before realising that on autopilot I'd gone into the disabled loo. It is one thing to tie up one of several available stalls in the ladies for a snivel, but quite another to tie up the only accessible toilet for a purpose other than the obvious. So I rushed a half-arsed job of calming myself down, didn't hang about to repair my makeup, and took the lift down to the foyer to call a cab. As I stepped out of the lift, there were the interviewers, coming down the stairs, taking advantage of the unexpected half-hour break, and there was me, blotchy of face and obviously far more upset than any sane person should be over a goddamn admin job. They were nice again, making sure I could call a cab and so on, and I did my best to brazen it out - oh well, hopefully you won't mind me coming back if there's another part-time job here and I haven't embarrassed myself too badly, ho ho ho - but there's only so much bluff a person can pull off when the world can see that the tears have only just stopped rolling, and while they said I absolutely should continue to apply for future part-time jobs, well, what else could they have said?

The problem isn't that I didn't get the job. The problem is that I didn't get the job because of factors beyond my control that I cannot find a way around. I do a pretty good job of convincing myself that despite my illness, I am doing okay at life, and with a few exceptions, I can do anything I put my mind to. The exceptions rankle though, and one of the biggest exceptions is my inability to consistently and reliably function at a high enough level to be able to hold down a full-time job.

Back home and with a cup of tea inside me, I know I probably should have continued with the interview, made them love me, and then tried to persuade them to drop the hours down, but I didn't have it in me.

The best thing about today so far is that last night I had the foresight to cast on for a sock to take with me and occupy myself while waiting for my post-interview cab. I would have gone nuts if I hadn't had something to do with my hands while waiting. Especially when the next person with "here for interview" tattoed on their forehead (ok, but) strolled into the foyer and took a seat to wait.

That'll teach me to get lulled into a false sense of security by life going smoothly.

My computer is unwell at the moment so I'm not online so much. Right now I'm using Steve's eeePC which is, well, it's okay but the screen and keyboard are tiny, it's not a main computer.

I'm back in my jeans and t-shirt now, feeling like a massive loser and really not ready to go and spend another afternoon of my life putting CDs in boxes. If I'm still doing that when I'm thirty then I want one of you to come and euthanise me, okay?

Remploy and MPs

Finally, a response regarding the Remploy problems. My MP referred the matter to Anne McGuire, the erstwhile Minister for Disabled People. The response consists of a letter from Anne McGuire to my MP regarding the matter (dated approximately two weeks before she was replaced by Jonathan Shaw), and a covering letter from my MP, as it went via his office.

As you'll see from that article, whilst in office Ms McGuire was all about welfare-to-work. And my MP is James Plaskitt, the Benefit Fraud Minister. Surely if anyone should be up in arms about a company like Remploy skewing the stats for disabled people entering employment, it's these two.

Oh dear. While I like having faith in humanity, and believe that people as individuals are generally good, fair, and basically nice, I really must stop being so naive as to extend this to politicians.

According to my MP, "It appears that there has been a genuine and unfortunate error in the handling of your case, for which Remploy and the Government offer their sincere apologies."

Not fifty quid, then. Nor any thanks for my honesty in not taking the money and running, or for alerting them to the problems. And I wonder, Mr Plaskitt, if you uncovered a Benefit Fraudster on the claimant side rather than the government side, would you let them off with "apologies"?

No. Even if a benefit claimant made a "genuine and unfortunate error", they'd be hounded through the courts and at the very least, be required to pay back the funds which they had received on the basis of the erroneous information.

The letter from Ms McGuire was a little more illuminating. Sort of. I'm not going to reproduce any of it here as it's full of management gibberish and unashamed weasel-speak, but ten years as a fan of Dilbert has enabled me to boil it down and so I present the basic content in English.

1. Contacting me: Oops.

2. Only sending the signature pages: Oops.

3. Wrong dates: Oops.

4. Telephone call: Oops.

It seems Remploy contacted a whole list of clients to try and get them onto the Workstep programme. The list contained the details of 16 people, myself included, who should not have been on the list. No one noticed until I spoke up. The other 15 are being 'reviewed'.

For each point there's a lot of meaningless flannel about "ongoing continuous improvement programme" and references to undefined "additional measures" which will be put in place. Oops is about the size of it, though.

As for the '£50 for returning some forms' business: apparently £50 is considered a perfectly reasonable "incentive" for people to return information. Neither Remploy, nor the DWP, nor the wider government see anything dodgy about that at all. My apologies to Wat Tyler and Dr Crippen.

St Ebeneezer

As the esteemed blogger Scaryduck (I am not worthy, etc) recently observed, St Ebeneezer's Day - "the first day that Christmas displays appear in shops and public houses" - has well and truly occurred.

Speaking from the trenches of mail-order dispatch of classical music, I can confirm that the rush has started. The volume of orders is increasing, and the orders being placed have more than a sprinkling of titles like "Concertos and Cantatas for Christmas", not to mention Bach's Christmas Oratorio (available on CD, SACD and DVD from just about any record label you care to name).

I'm guessing that quite a few of the people who read this blog are likely to do at least part of their shopping online, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to make a few generic requests and give a few pointers, on behalf of all those dispatchers for small businesses out there who remember last Christmas and are fearing this one.

... actually, thinking about it, this may work better as a series. Other readers on the frontline should feel free to make additions in the comments.

So onwards, with Part One - Placing Your Order.

Fill out the form properly.

It's not really a difficult form. Put your postcode in the postcode box and your address in the address boxes. If you don't know your address and postcode, go and ask a responsible adult.

For each new line, use a new line of the address box - don't just type in twenty spaces, or half a dozen full stops. You can click in each box, or you can use the TAB key to scroll through them. While you're at it, why not let the shift key enter your life? It's not just there to make the keyboard look nice.

"As Above" is not an address. Nor is "as previous order," as I can't actually see your previous orders unless I stop everything and start rootling around in the database. And please, for pity's sake, don't think you're being clever by asterisking out the first few letters of each line of your name and address "for security". We need your proper address in order to send you the things you have ordered. The postman will not take packages to "** ***ley Road", okay?

You should also know that it's not "the computer" that fixes these things so that you get your goods. It's me, putting my Stalker hat on with the help of Google in a way that would probably have you feeling quite uncomfortable if you knew about it. You may also like to remember that all the time I spend correcting your address, I'm not shipping orders - you're holding up the queue!

Contact details

We're not asking for the fun of it, nor are we likely to sell your data. If we've said that we won't pass your details on, then we really won't. It's one of those big business/small business things. A big business is only ever about the money. A small business, on the other hand, is personal, and all of its employees are going to be trying to provide the sort of service we would like to recieve from others. So we won't pass your phone number to other companies owned by the same multinational conglomerate, or "relevant third parties", and we won't flood your inbox with spam. We're asking for fast contact details because if there's a problem with your order, we'd prefer to be able to let you know as soon as possible, and give you a chance to change your order, rather than waiting for you to contact us several weeks later because your goods have not arrived.

Your credit card 'security code' is NOT your PIN.

Your security code is the last three digits of the little number on the back of your card, where you put your signature. It's not a difficult thing to find. You never type your PIN online. If you type in your PIN where you should have put your security code, all that happens is that your credit card gets flagged - security code not matched - and you may have to wait longer while we check to find out whether you're (a) incapable of reading simple instructions or (b) a fraudster trying to use a dodgy credit card, and let's be honest, neither of those are good really, are they?

Reasonable Requests

Most small businesses will do their best to meet any requests you make, it's part of what makes us different to Amazon and Tesco. Perhaps something is a gift and you want to be sure it's sent to the recipient without the price on it - no problem. Maybe you are on holiday and want to delay posting to make sure your package won't arrive while you're away - easy. Maybe you want your order shipped in as many lots as it takes to make sure that each parcel is no bigger than the pannier on your bike - we can do that. But please, please, let us know early on. Preferably before you place your order. If we know your requests before the order comes in, then we can do our best to meet them. We won't be able to get the package back off the Post Office if you only put in your request after the order is dispatched.

Still to come: Costs and charges, Royal Mail, and Other Issues.

And now, by request of a friend of mine, a short commercial break for a friendly online mail order business. Adults only, I cannot stress this strongly enough, adults only may wish to look at Temptations for all their adult toy needs. Temptations is run by a couple of entrepreneurs with a long-standing interest in adult toys, aiming to provide the sort of service levels they would prefer to recieve when shopping online for such items. Please don't click that link if you're under 16 or easily offended.

Under-16s, and those who are not in the market for the kind of wares Temptations stock, may prefer to visit the 100% family-friendly appropriate-for-everyone Web Of Wool to spend their money.

Edit 20:17 07/09/08 broken link fixed.

We Apologise For The Break In Transmission

Wow, no blogposts for a month. Not quite sure how that happened. My apologies to anyone who got concerned. I am okay.

On with the excuses, well, I had a week or so at the beginning of August where I couldn't seem to phrase anything right. After that, I kept telling myself I would blog later, which never came.

Two things are notable for having NOT occurred. First, I still haven't heard anything more on the Remploy problems. They were going to investigate it internally, but then my MP stepped in via the Department of Work and Pensions (DWP) and now contact is supposed to flow via the MP and the DWP. Which it isn't. In mitigation, my MP is the "anti-fraud" minister (see "we are determined to catch those taking money that does not belong to them") which probably makes it difficult to suddenly reverse mindset to a non-claimant whose problem is that they are being offered and declining to accept money.

Second, I haven't organised that proper week away at the coast and I'm no longer convinced that I want to. There seems to be an awful lot going on at the moment and I get the strong impression that my presence would only exacerbate matters.

However, I HAVE been doing lots of things.

I've applied to Social Services for help and they have done really well - preliminary assessment over the phone same-day, a home visit from a social worker to do a full assessment the following week, a home visit for a financial assessment the week after that, then it was a home visit from somebody from the Rowan Organisation to talk me through the options for Direct Payments and whatnot, and finally a visit for assessment by an Occupational Therapist.

This level and speed of response would be pretty good even if they'd just turned around and said "no, you're not eligible for any help, care, equipment or services, and even if you were, you'd have to pay the full cost." But amazingly, and despite all the horror stories I've heard from both service users and providers, they've really come through.

The social worker has assessed me as needing 7 hours of personal care and 3 hours of social care per week. The financial assessment means this will be funded by social services. The Rowan will help me use Direct Payments to hire a PA to help me. They will help me find a suitable Personal Assistant (PA), do criminal records checks, assist me with holding interviews, and help with the paperwork (eg taxes and NI for my PA). It's all ready to go and there is just one problem - while Steve agrees with the idea of me getting the help I need, faced with the reality of it he found that he has difficulty with the idea of someone coming into his house. I don't have the balls to just go ahead with it without his consent but hopefully we'll work something out soon, as it's really quite upsetting to be struggling and going without while knowing that I don't have to.

The social worker also said we could have an emergency plan, in case Steve is hospitalised or has a family emergency or something. The "In Your Place" scheme means that if something like that happened, a temporary carer would be sent to the house to stay with me and fulfil Steve's role - not just the active personal/social care things, but also supervision, and doing the things that I can't do but am assessed as not needing help with because I live with someone who can be reasonably expected to do them, like cooking or going to the supermarket or changing the sheets on the bed (the idea is that these things aren't "care" as he would have to do them anyway if he lived alone). The temporary carer would stay with me for up to 72 hours, until either Steve was back at home, or a longer-term solution could be put in place.

The Occupational Therapist has done well for me too. A lot of the simpler bits and bobs I need, Steve or I have already purchased, but she's got me things like a swivel bath seat that helps me get into the tub safely to have my shower. She'll come back for another visit next month to see how I'm getting on and think about what else I might need. Most of the things she wanted to prescribe, I can't have, because it's a privately rented house and the landlord might object to permanent objects like grab rails and level access and a stairlift being installed. But, she's writing down officially that she thinks I should have them, which might help with the DLA appeal and will be a head-start if we ever get our own place.

On a different level, I applied for an admin job. I made it to interview entirely on merit (I made it clear that I was NOT applying under the "two ticks" scheme) and from there got onto the shortlist, but didn't get the job in the end. I'm a bit disappointed. It would have been nice, it would have suited my skills more, and I'm keen to get out from where I am at the moment. However, my current job isn't unbearable, and it's not like there'll never be another part-time admin job advertised ever again. The feedback was positive but not in a vastly useful way - apparently my application, qualifications, experience and interview was all fine, there wasn't anything that they felt I should improve upon, and I'm the second choice, so they'll call me if the first choice passes it up or can't provide references.

Of course they might have just said all that to make me feel better. Who knows. For now, it suits me to take it at face value and think yes, I was good, someone else was better, never mind.

We went to the wedding as planned, which was a total success in every sense. We caught up with a few familiar faces from the darker corners of the internet, as well as meeting a few new ones, and had an absolutely lovely time. The weather behaved itself, so the ceremony took place with gorgeous sunlight shining through the windows and making the bride look even more beautiful. It was very relaxed, and everybody was happy. Technically I caught the bouquet, but we should probably bear in mind that I was the only one trying and it was tossed directly to me from a distance of about two feet, very theatrically, for Steve's benefit. Steve, for his part, pointedly ignored the whole thing. Bah.

I got to see Pip and the Littlun, who is now The Boy as he is more than waist-high. I can't believe how much he's grown! He'll be four soon. We played with his trains and read a story, and spent a lot of time doing a sort of counting/sorting game of his own invention with little ludo pieces. Seeing Pip was good. I have missed him an awful lot since moving away. We really could have done with an hour to chat like grownups, maybe next time.

There's been other stuff too - going places, seeing people. I can't remember it all and this post already has too much variety in it. It was a good summer. Hopefully there is still a little bit more to come.

Summer

This is definitely summer. It is scorching hot out there. I have never missed the sea breeze so much.

Going to get a little bit of sea breeze when Steve and I head for the coast at the end of August for Jiva and Munkt0n's wedding. We're really looking forward to that, with extra added squee because the first time we met in real life was when we went to their engagement bash.

That'll just be a weekender though, as Steve can't book any time off work at present. But, Pip and I have been looking into the idea of car hire (Pip took his car off the road after I left town) to enable me to have a proper week's holiday and see everyone. The idea is that Steve could take me part of the way, and hand me and my suitcase over to Pip at a halfway services station. We're thinking probably September would be best, once the kids are back at school. Littlun will be doing half-days, so we'll be able to Do Stuff for half a day without all the local facilities being overrun by Bigger Kids, and then I can rest properly while he's at school.

Until I get some seafront, though, my life has been made that bit more comfortable by work having invested in an air-conditioning unit. The room was getting really quite unbearably hot, what with the combination of (1) thousands of CD cases, flat-pack corrugated cardboard boxes, and other packing materials, also known as insulation; (2) a single barred window which only opens a few inches; (3) a computer on the go the whole time; and (4) up to three adults constantly moving around the room doing work which, while it could not be described as physically demanding, works up considerably more of a sweat than sitting around typing. I don't care that my carbon footprint probably makes the baby Jesus cry. It was getting hard to breathe in there!

And now, I think, I will get my eye-mask out of the fridge, and go upstairs to lie very very still in the hope that sleep will come.

Naughty Remploy

The other day, I got a letter from Remploy. Here's a direct quote, with my flags in brackets:

"To enable us to validate your employment status (1) we require further evidence of your registration and job start. Therefore, we are writing to ask you to sign the enclosed documentation (2)(3) and provide us with a copy of [list of documents such as my work contract, payslips, etc]....

... We understand the inconvenience this gives you and to address this, we will give you with a £50.00 giro (sic) on receipt of this pack/evidence." (4)

To take these flags one at a time:
(1) Validate my employment status? Why? With whom? What for? The only people who need to know about my employment status are the DWP (who know), the Inland Revenue (who know), and me and my employer (who definitely know). My work is valid, my tax is valid, my NI is valid, what other validation could I possibly need? And why have they dressed it up in officialspeak to make it sound like it's something important and necessary while conveying no useful information?

(2) The "enclosed documentation" consists only of the signature pages of several forms. I have the parts of the forms which say "I confirm the above information is correct" (a couple also specify that I understand that the information I give may be checked by the DWP) but I have no idea what the above information may or may not consist of. In other words, there is no opportunity for me to actually read what they are telling me to sign. What?!? How can a company whose raison d'etre is dealing with "vulnerable adults" possibly get away with encouraging people to sign things they have not read?

(3) The dates which have already been written into these signature pages are all "27/10/07". The Jobcentre DEA didn't even begin to refer me to Remploy until our sole meeting which was 3 days after that date - and Remploy didn't contact me until early December, by which time I was happily employed. In other words, they are encouraging me to falsify evidence which, if it is checked with the DWP, will be proven false. With my signature on it.

(4) Is it just me who thinks that £50 is rather a lot of recompense for the "inconvenience" of four signatures and a few bits of paper? Even if I had to hire someone to do it for me and sent it by courier, it wouldn't cost me anything like that. Given the extreme dodginess of the false dates and the not-enclosed documentation, one might even go so far as to consider the possibility (*avoids lawsuit*) that this may, by some people, be considered tantamount to a bribe for falsifying documentation...


With all this in mind, I decided to call Remploy to find out what the hell they thought they were playing at. After a short time, the woman whose name was on the letter phoned me back (woman? Yes. I should probably point out that to the best of my knowledge the male Remploy employee who was trying to help me find a way around the hours/NI problem a few weeks ago was not involved in this at all).

First she told me to just sign the boxes indicated and pop it all in the prepaid envelope and she'd take care of the rest, nothing to worry about, and then I'd get my £50.

I told her I understood that much, but before I started signing things, I wanted to know what it was that I was actually signing. She said they were just doing some admin for their own purposes, it's nothing I need to worry about, I just need to sign the forms, and they'll give me £50.

I asked why I was being asked to sign documents I had not been given to read, she said she was just trying to save on postage costs (they're offering £50 per person and they're worried about an extra 50p postage?!). By this time she was getting really annoyed with how awkward I was being and told me that if I was going to insist on being sent the full documents then she could do that, but really, there's no need, it's nothing I need to worry about, I just have to sign the forms and then they'll give me £50.

I told her that the dates were false. She tried to explain that they had to backdate things. I told her that her false dates could be easily proven false by the DWPs own records as they predated my original referral, and that I wasn't going to sign false documentation. At this point she changed tack to "okay, fine, don't sign the forms then. Just put them through a shredder and forget about it." I find it interesting that she specified that if I wasn't going to return the paperwork, I should destroy it. Maybe, despite her incredible lack of understanding of acceptable (never mind best) practice, she's really hot on data protection... or maybe she doesn't want me to show it to anyone. Oops.

She didn't seem to get that this sort of thing just wasn't on, or why I didn't want to participate, or why I felt organisations like Remploy should really know better.

£50 is a LOT of money to me (half a week's wages! more than a week's food!) and it really is quite difficult to effectively turn down free money. I suspect there will be others who have been sent this kind of letter who've decided that £50 is £50, and cheerfully signed away.

I don't want to have missed out for nothing. I have to do something with this, "alert the proper authorities" or similar, but I don't know where to start or who the proper authorities might be. Remploy, so far as I can ascertain, is government-owned and government-funded, and I don't know who they answer to or how to complain. I did ask about their internal complaints procedure and was told that a complaint would come straight back to that department to resolve - in other words, it wouldn't go any higher up the ladder and no one would be held accountable for bad practice.

I know I'm asking this a lot lately, but what would YOU do?

Wahoo!

Remember the ongoing saga of the Tax Credits problems?

Today I checked my bank statement, as you do, and saw that on 9th June, a payment of just under £20 was made straight into my account with the reference "Working Tax Credit".

PANIC! I don't want Tax Credits! I don't want to be entangled with them at all! I have an ongoing dispute with them! Why are they putting money into my account with no explanation?!?

Straight on the phone to a chap called Bob, who had a dig through my file and found a letter, dated 3rd June, which has been sent to me, but hasn't arrived here yet. So he read out the relevant bits to me.

An overpayment was made to me in the tax year April 2004 to April 2005.

This Inland Revenue intended to recover this overpayment by reducing my Tax Credits payments during the tax year April 2005 to April 2006.

I spoilt this plan by getting sick and eventually losing my job in June 2005. So that is why, in July 2005, I got a bill for over £500, consisting of the original overpayment, minus the £20 they had already recovered by reducing the payments I'd received between April 2005 and June 2005.

Communications since then have been variations on a rather repetitive theme of:
"Give us money!"
"I don't have that much money. And even if I did, I'm not convinced I owe it to you."
"Oh. Okay. (pause) Give us money!"

However, the letter I haven't received yet apparently says that the Appeals and Complaints bunch have reviewed my case and decided that the overpayment was due to "official error" and as such has been written off. This means that the money they "recovered" between April and June 2005 was in fact my money, so I can have it back. That's what the mystery payment into my bank account was about.

I'm so relieved. I was going to blog about something very very naughty which Remploy have done, but this is so much better. I hated the idea of being in debt, I hated the idea that I had somehow incurred debt without knowing I was doing it, and the letters demanding repayment and threatening legal action were really, really upsetting. But it's all over now, and I don't have to deal with them again.

I would say I'll try not to spend all of my almost-£20 at once, but thinking about it, I've probably spent more than that in phone calls and postage and photocopying and so on during the three-year course of this dispute. Definitely worth it to not have a £500 debt over my head, though.