Is this a regular habit then?

Well, looky at this - I finished my writing course, leaving me with time to write.

Advantages of writing course

• Homework - makes you write to deadlines.


• Marks - makes you feel you have achieved something.


• Other people - us writer's like the craik you know. (Spelling?)


• An excuse to say - ooh, dishes/housework/paying bills, etc - ooh no not for me, I am a writer, and am now too busy for life.

Disadvantages of writing course

• Marks - makes you over analyse your very pretty story, and bore the pants off people who have to do the -No, no, I don't think getting that mark means you are crap, and yes I like your story, ad nauseum.

One of the hardest things about explaining why you believe ME is not always related to having a type A personality, is that I am a type A personality.

I bloody well like certificates, and recognition, and to know that that weird look that lady gave me doesn't mean I am a big failure, and that getting good marks makes me a, er, more developed person. All ideal for writing of course - as long as neurosis helps form a craft, well, then, let's have more of it - sometimes you cannot get enough.

EEEEEEK. EeeeeeeK, EEEeeeEEEK. The pixie club I help run is getting inspected soon. I have enough invisible spectre's on my shoulders whispering - have you remembered to count the pixies? have you given them both fun and healthy snacks? have you solved the conundrum of safety versus risk in the games they play? etc, without a real live person coming in to put their oar in.

This week we have hit some kind of lovely calm - seriously well behaved pixies, who appear happy a lot, and I have got to play with them three days in a row. Had to eat a plastic fish cooked on a rather grimy pretend cooker - but you know, plastic fish is the new sushi.

Had to also do my 'I am very dissapointed talk' regarding a broken toy stethascope. Bzzz, bzz, say the pixies, can you hear a women moaning again?

Oh, and had to see the headteacher - told me to stop calling her Mrs, but my palms were just oozing with the conviction she would know I wasn't a manager of pixies, just a little girl pretending to be 34. She stole that thunder though - got to get health and safety in, she said, so that they don't think I'm just a wee woman being fussy. Unite wee woman, unite!

Cash v Beauty

I long to search for poetry
In a mind made well for mystery,
But it ain’t got so much appeal for me
As I am motivated most by
Promises of fame
And a nice fat fee.

Bendy as a ballerina made of jelly

Apparently, in Scotlandio, it is to be minus one tonight - so not so much a late summer, as a disaster of an autumn then.
Fairysparkle still pursues the new job idea - and is frustratingly in the position of being told she might, might might have an interview - and in between sends her CV off to random place like the bank. But banks who like to say yes, say, what, a creative individual in the money business - no you crazee woman, you too flouncy for the bank.
I was dared to wear as much makeup as I could last week by the pixies - and went into the back with stony expression, my face covered from forehead to neck in technicolour. When the pixies saw me, they were like NO WAY. My adoptable pixie, age 5, and mental as a fruitloop, was like -ARGH! I LOVE YOU, YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL!

The rest of the pixies were like, please don't take us to the park, we don't know you.
The pixie known as Sugarboy, topped my level of freakery by eating half a pancake covered with one inch thick of margarine in one swallow yesterday.

Weather knows no bounds for little pixies and their evil masters (that's us, the staff, not their spirit guides), we go to the park everyday we can. And the evil masters sit on the swings and go - look at us we are working so hard - isn't pixiecare hard work, eh? We have an agency staff member just now, and she is like - but it is freezing. If four years of playing outside with hands like icy claws hasn't hardened my immune system in anyway, then what has been the point of my SVQ 2 in playing/working?

It's a bit of a funny dilemna right now - I want a job that maybe even uses some of my skills. It needs to be less physical than it is now - more sitting please, and less running around. But, I am aware I work with a stupendously good team. The kind of team where if you feel crap, they really do actually hug you. The disheartening thing is - if you have to fit a job around a disability -well, it's not like the market is teaming with opportunities.

The whole - how can the workforce become more adaptable to us disabled bodies, especially the hidden disability kind rankles in my head with not many answers. Or does it? See, me and my fellow knackered and creamcrackered friends have totally sussed it. We need an agency that specialises in helping professional disabled people get somewhere. See we're so paranoid that we had to be adapted round, that we actually work twice as hard to compensate. (I have read disabled people take less sick time than non disabled).

Me? I'd like a big badge that spells out the advantages of having lived half a life with half an energy supply.
'It makes me very very adaptable. So bendy in fact, I could fit inside your top pocket, even if it was a bit squashy.'