So, this Friday I'm officially unemployed. Being unemployed is quite intollerable and i've turned to Prozac for help. It's my first prescription drug addiction and it seems to be having an effect. I've been on it for a few weeks and i'm sleeping better and smoking less. I'll be sane soon and hopefully i'll be able to go on package holidays to Greek islands and actually enjoy myself. Anyway, to celebrate the glamour of a Prozac addiction i've decided to take a few personality quizes. There are some serious flaws in my Being:

Personality Disorder Test Results Paranoid |||| 18% Schizoid |||||||||||||||||| 78% Schizotypal |||||| 30% Antisocial |||||||||||| 46% Borderline |||||||||| 34% Histrionic |||||||||| 38% Narcissistic |||||||||| 38% Avoidant |||||| 30% Dependent |||| 18% Obsessive-Compulsive |||| 14%

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50% is average so it's not as bad as it looks. Here's Zbornak's test results and as you can see he's more fucked than I am. I surprised myself by only scoring 78% for Schizoid personality disorder.

Ethics:
Do you, like me, ever wonder which philosopher/s you're most like? Here are my results:
1. Cynics (100%)
2. John Stuart Mill (96%)
3. Jean-Paul Sartre (83%)

I'd just like to say that i've had Sartre's Being and Nothingness beside my bed for the past two years and I haven't read a page of it. I also scored 8/10 on this quiz meaning my Mickey Mouse pseudo-degree diploma was worth every penny.

Issues:

I have issues with...

patience health society fame mother

Take Word Association Test

This made my laugh: "Toyota" lawsuit.

Big Brother has started. I've never watched it and I don't intend to start. This year seems exceptionally cheap and nasty. Razorhead puts it well:

Two poofters, a bull dyke and bisexual locked in the deliberately oppressive studio with a fag-hater should be good telly...

I've fallen in love with Kitten and logged onto the Big Brother website to find out more. I found this 'interesting' 'article' about my new favourite lesbian:

The feisty activist was sitting alone with her thoughts in the lounge, disengaged from the others and their talk of fast food horrors.

Maybe the pressure of constant Big Brother is bothering her or maybe she objects to people talking about meat eating as much as she does about 'meat' itself.

'Meat' as a metaphor for cock. Classy. Sack the copywriter and get someone who can write copy right.

Hey y'all. It's (nearly) a year to day since I was marched out of the call centre. How dreadful. The course is over on Wednesday and then it's unemployment. I hope I can find a non-data entry, non-call centre job. Anyway, I'm going on holiday for a week or two and will look for a job when I return. I've bought some hosting for popdizzy.com and it'll be back online mid-June.

I can finally bring myself to update you about my course- I decided two weeks ago that i'm not gonna continue with it. I can afford the course fees but not the repayments on my loans and other expenses. Also, I can't really justify spending the £1,000 i've worked so hard for on a piece of paper with no guarantee of getting a job at the end of it.

I've been thoroughly miserable because it means I can't now get my Dream Job. I really hope I don’t return to a call centre. I fear that'd be the end of me.

Incidentally, a friend of mine is 28 and works in the call centre. His basement flat was recently flooded with water- he had no insurance. All his books were ruined and the water fucked-up his computer. I often pay him a visit when I need cheering up. It's not that i take pleasure in his suffering ('schadenfreude' is my new favourite word), but rather that he sees the world in a similar way to me. He has an MSc himself and had these wise words to say: "You'd be unemployable even with the MSc- you've saved yourself £1000!"

Y'know, the more I think about it, the more it cheers me up.

Here are the results from a quiz i've taken to compensate for lack of content. It's about my ideal career:

Extroverted (E) 50% Introverted (I) 50% Imaginative (N) 61.9% Realistic (S) 38.1% Intellectual (T) 55.26% Emotional (F) 44.74% Easygoing (P) 86.47% Organized (J) 13.53% Your type is: ENTP You are an Inventor, possible professions include - systems designer, venture capitalist, actor, journalist, investment broker, real estate agent, real estate developer, strategic planner, political manager, politician, special projects developer, literary agent, restaurant/bar owner, technical trainer, diversity manager, art director, personnel systems developer, computer analyst, logistics consultant, outplacement consultant, advertising creative director, radio/TV talk show host.

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So i took a personality test to see what sort of job I should do. I'm not impressed with the results and I can't really see myself doing any of the jobs it suggested. Journalist? Politician? Actor? Uck Uck Uck!

I did a careers test like this at school. You sat down in front of a computer with the careers teacher and answered a bunch of questions about your personality. The questions were like "I enjoy sport" or "I enjoy working outside" or "I've got many friends."

The school computer suggested two jobs that matched my personality: A florist and an undertaker.

I fell in love with Morrissey last night when he appeared on the Johnathan Ross Show. I never liked The Smiths or Morrissey's music, but he seems quite cool. That said, I do love his new album.

uck! A 'Final Demand' letter from the Dixons Stores Group arrived today. They say they overpaid me £450. They've written to me twice demanding their overpayments back and on each occasion the amount of money i'm meant to owe has been different. I was hoping if i left it long enough they'd revise the figure downwards again.

Alas, it didn't happen.

Rang the credit collection agency today. They kept were kind enough to play some tunes whilst I was on hold: Elton John's Rocket Man, Billy Joel's Leningrad and Bowie's All the Young Dudes.

A suitably depressing selection.

Finished reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar today. Here's my favoritest quote:

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Ooo... I have 10,000 words to write by 3^rd June. I've been working to earn my fees/pay debt and my studies have been suffering. I don't know where it all went wrong- in the first semester I tried so hard and did so very well. I think seeing the *sort of* students who DID get the bursaries (& 80% of my current classmates did) has kinda demoralised me.

Anyway, I'm looking towards the horizon- my dissertation starts soon and I'll get to write 15,000 words about poo and bumholes.

In other news, I installed a hit counter on this blog yesterday and discovered that 30 people read this site a day compared to 200-300 when i had my old domain name. I used to feel SO validated by the 200 visitors from google looking for QVC+Ladder and Hasselhoff+Naked. I think it's because www.popdizzy.com/index.php takes you to a 404 NOT FOUND error. I have since deleted the hit counter.

& I applied for a job in Niger today!

Well, I just *love* new blogger. Blogging on my own domain name felt so... self-indulgent.

Like all failed graduates who can't find a proper job, I've given some thought to becoming a teacher. I saw an advert in a newspaper for teacher training last week and decided to apply. Anyway, it looks like a good deal: there are no fees to pay and there's a government grant (yes! free money) of £6,000 for a half year of study.

"Fuck it, that sure beats the dole!" I said to myself and swiftly applied for an application form.

It's a PGCCE so I'd be able to teach A-Levels and stuff. I'd also be able to put PGCCE after my name, which is two letters better than PhD.

Anyway, I didn't get on the course. You needed a 'C' or above in GCSE English. I got As and A*s in my science-related GCSEs but failed my English related ones. I wrote to the Polyversity's admissions tutor blaming my former school for my failings- "I was dyslexic and insufficient provisions were made for my disability!"

But it didn't get me anywhere. Total bitches! I can understand where they're coming from. My English IS terrible, I don't know the alphabet and I can't count above 40.

There shall be no more pointless education this year- I will have to get some hateful clerical job.

(or should that have been 'will' and not 'shall?')
(is it 'shall?' or 'shall'?)

Yay! Popdizzy is back online! Isn't this nice.