The Electricity Police

"Ello Ello Ello, what's going on here then? Gone up to 14p? You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you?"

I can practically see him in a Policeman's uniform, hands cupped behind his back, bending his knees like they do in the comedy films. Only, this has definitely lost it's funny side.

"Reduce your energy use and save up to £150 with EnergySmart" said British Gas. "We'll give you a free clever little electricity monitor". Sounded familiar...

My mum tells me that my dad has one of these "clever little electricity monitors". He wanders round the house measuring how much leccy everthing is using. Woe betide you if you think you can have the telly AND the computer on at the same time though. He drives her mad with it. I have to admit, I was intrigued.

So I signed up.

Then it arrived...

Normally, I can't get my husband off the computer for his tea, but the words "I've got a free electricty gadget" shouted up the stairs seemed to do the trick. He practically had flames coming out the bottom of his socks he came down that fast. Husband couldn't get it out of the box fast enough ("Nails, Have you got nails? Forget it. Scissors, we need scissors"). It was plugged in and away we went. Somehow, it benchmarks you against the 'average family useage'. When you are on target for the day, it has a little tick, when you're not going to meet it, a cross. All sounds good so far, till I tell you that we are clearly not the average family.

You get up in the morning - big fat cross. I only need to look at it and I can hear the Family Fortune's "EH URGH" noise. Clearly, we use too much even when we're asleep. The computer alone puts us over the limit for the day! I feel like a glutenous planet killer who's guzzling all the electric. I'm going to get up one morning to find Greenpeace protestors on my lawn, living in the leylandii, handcuffing themselves to my washing machine whilst singing Bob Dylan.

Mr Gumpy has now passed out of basic training and become Sgt Grumpy. He's become obsessed. It's the new 'Way Forward'. He has become the Electricity Police. All he needs is a blue flashing light and he'd be away. If it didn't use electric he'd probably get one, and a loudhailer and siren too. The 'clever little electricity monitor' sits in front of him all day long on his desk, and his eyes are peeled on it for the slightest change. There are also Def Con 1 moments when for some reason my husband seems to think 'The Big Guy' has moved in and is using our leccy...

"Jesus Christ!14p! It's gone up to 14p"! What have you switched on???"

(Banging on bathroom door) "Jesus Christ! Hurry up in that shower!!! It's on 80p!

"Jesus Christ!!!! Have you got the washer on or something? Jesus Christ!

"Dishwasher??? Jesus Christ! We'll have to start doing it by hand! That works out at 50p a load!"

TEN YEARS I've been trying to get him to hand wash the dishes and sack the dishwasher. 'Clever little electricity monitor" managed it within 2 days. For most men, the best way to their hearts is through their stomach. For geeks, obviously the best way to their hearts is through their gadget.

It's like being in Cell Block H. One minute you're in a room, just sitting there, the next minute, you're in the dark.

Me: "Hey! Who turned the light out?"
Sgt: "You don't need that on"
Me: "But it's 11pm, pitch dark and I was reading???"
Sgt: "Read during the day, it costs less"

It also doubles as an 'activity tracking device':

Sgt: "Have you made a brew for me as well?"
Me: "Eh?"
Sgt "Well I saw the elecric shoot up and I assumed it was the kettle going on"
Me: "oh" (only made one for myself, whoops, caught out)
Me: "Do you want one?"
Sgt: "Yeah"
Me: "I'll go make one"
Sgt: (shouts after me...) "And make sure you pour it as soon as it's boiled. I noticed you boiled it twice last time... and bring snacks".

Now he's got me shouting for The Big Guy.

I've now come to a decision. The average family are clearly from a Quaker small holding, where they wash in a stream, sit in the dark and cook on an open fire (not electric of course). They also have a wind turbine , with six kids on exercise bikes hooked up this turbine like hamsters on a wheel, peddling like the clappers 24/7.

I try not to think about this as I'm watching Sky and sitting typing on my lecci-burning laptop. Wonder how much I used writing this? Maybe I can blame it on Jesus, or just start peddling.

For Goodness Sake! Just Make A Decision!!!

How on earth they get there I have no idea, but wherever you go there just seem to be scores of people who just can't make a decision.

These are the people that clogg up the aisles in the supermarket at weekend because they can't decide whether to buy Kingsmill or Warbies bread. The indecision isn't based on anything - they just can't make the decision. Who gives a monkey's? It will all be mouldy in a week anyway!

How do these people get jobs, let alone get promoted? I'll tell you how. They all go and work in public service. You never see "Ability to make a decision is essential" on a local authority job advert, trust me. It doesn't say "Ability to pontificate essential" either, but you would swear it was in there somewhere.

My theory is that most people go into public services fully capable of making decisions, but after a while they get into the swing of public service and hop on the 'Delegation Roundabout'.

You've all experienced the roundabout. You ring the Council to get x,y or z done and Steve tells you that he can't do that without speaking to Jeff. Jeff tells you that he can't authorise it without speaking to Frank. Frank says it's OK with him, but he'll need to 'liase' with Steve, who is by this time off on the sick. By the time Steve comes back from sick so much time has passed that everyone has forgotten you asked in the first place and when you ring to remind them Steve says he needs to go back and check with Jeff that it's still OK... the cycle starts all over again.

It's like their scared of making the decision or scared of the ramifications. Top Tip here, if you're scared, you're either:

1. a big jessie, or
2. your conscience is telling you that the decision you're about to make is wrong.

That's where all the Council Tax goes folks! It goes on the wages of the pontificators. Another Top Tip... think "what would the people think?". If you think they would agree with you, the decision is probably right. If you think that people would flood the local paper with letters of complaint, don't do it.

Don't forget Council staff... a decision a day keeps the Council Tax rise at bay!

I Love My Job

I never hear people say they love their job.

Why does everyone you speak to seem to hate their job when they spend the best part of the week doing it? Would you spend all evening watching a TV programme that you didn't like and sit there saying "I hate this programme"?

I, on the other hand, love my job. I love everything about it and I never wake up thinking "Oh God, I don't want to go to work". The day you think that, is the day you look for another job.

One of my favourite jobs of all time was filing test results in a doctor's surgery. There's something satisfying about filing, and to this day I still do my own. The only reason I left was because I was offered the job I have now, which is as satisfying as the filing, but more pay so not much contest.

I haven't had a job I didn't like for many years, and I've had some jobs that sound really crap on the surface too. I've worked as a dinner lady in schools, barmaid in many bars and clubs, McDonalds Crew Member, making car parts in a factory, administrator/receptionist, dancer in a night club, manager of a charity shop, ICT Facilitator, University Lecturer, Learndirect Tutor, and of course, filing.

In fact, when I come to think about it, all the jobs I thought had been crap over the years, were not so much the tasks or the pay, but the people I worked with. To illustrate a point, some of the bar jobs I had I really loved, others I ditinctly remember not liking, and it was always down to either the people I worked with or the people I served. If you've got good people you can cope with crap pay and conditions. I can only vaguely remember my crap jobs because I didn't stay long enough for them to make an impression. I once got a job in a town centre club in Manchester. I did one night and never even went back to collect my pay it was so rotten.

Just before Christmas I was given my redundancy notice. My team were also given theirs. It seems that we are a "thorn in the side" to our host organisation, although we are very successful at what we do. Senior managers say that if I want to keep the service going, and also protect the jobs of my team, I will have to embark on a "management takeover" (their words, not mine). This sounds great till you find out I'm the only management there and I've only got till the end of March to get it operational. Still, I love my job like it was a member of my family so I'm on the case. When you've got something good you need to hold on with both hands. I've now handcuffed myself to it and got both legs wrapped around it too... it isn't going anywhere!

If you say you hate your job, ask yourself why, don't just sit there and hate it. When you actually start to think about it, you might find that you like your job more than you think. Some jobs are harder to cope with than others, but when it comes down to it you wouldn't necessarily leave to go and do something else? It's like people who work outside complaining about working in bad weather, but if it actually came down to it they would choose standing in the rain to being stuck behind a desk. It might just be that the tasks and pay are fine but you work with a bunch of pillocks - you just need to take yourself to another firm.

If you don't like it, get another job, and don't use the excuse that you can't get another job because I've heard it all before and its total crap. I hear stuff like this every day "there aren't any jobs", "I haven't got any qualifications", "I've been unemployed too long", "The Job Centre says all I'll get is cleaning/factory/picking/packing", blah blah.

How come I hear all this? Here's the irony, I manage a centre that provides training and support for people who want work... and we're very good at what we do. What I can tell you is that all those that actually WANT a job, GET one. People who the Job Centre gave up on long ago, people who have no self confidence left, people who want a career change, people who have been made redundant (just like me). I see people every day that would bite your hand off for a job stacking shelves in ASDA and would wear that green t-shirt with pride. When they come in and tell you that they got the job your eyes well up and you want to give them a hug. Sometimes, you just can't help having a cry and giving them a little hug too. All it took was for us to give them a bit of self belief and show them that they had value in society.

What I say is don't listen to people who tell you that you can't. Give yourself the respect you deserve and tell yourself that you CAN do it. For most people the key to success is just believing that you can, so if you think you can't, come and see me and I'll convince you!

slash dot dash dot dash dot com

I was going to write about something else, until a series of unfortunate events led me to write about this.

I've lost count of the number of email addresses I have... one for work, one for home, a Hotmail one that I had to sign up for to get something, a Google one that I had to sign up for to get something, ones that come with the domains that I have.....

Out of control I say. I feel like an email cleptomaniac. You sign up for stuff and you never know which email you used to sign up. You go and sign up to places like Argos that you only go once in a blue moon, so the next time you go back to the site you spend the first 10 minutes trying to work out what you signed up as. Figuring if it was your work account is easy... you just need to ask a few simple questions... would the mail get stuck in the "Spam Collecter"? Do I want people at work to know that I've signed up to "Train Spotter Monthly"? After you've eliminated the work account, it's s down hill ride; checking loads of accounts for the Saviour "account confirmation" email, or typing lots of email addresses into the Log In page just to be told "Account Not Found".

... and don't get me started on the passwords! "We need to have different passwords for different stuff so that people don't get hold of them", my other half says. This is the same person that can't get into our Nectar account online because he can't remember the password and the email reminder goes to his work account... he left work 12 months ago. He's also forgotten the PIN for his card and has had to register us to do gas bills online more than twice because he forgot the details.

There must be some way that all these random email accounts can be stuck together in one.

Problem is, have you ever seen a button on Hotmail that says "Click here to get rif of your account"? As I've not come accross this handy button yet, all my old accounts get abandoned.

Once you decide to abandon an account it seems to sit there dormant like the books you keep from school and put in the attic because you "might want them some day". That's the problem... one day you just start thinking "wonder if anything is still going to that account?".

Next thing you know, you're on the Log In page putting in random passwords till you find the right one to open Pandora's Box. What you find is tonnes of Viagra adverts and spam emails that have sat there since last Christmas that you just have to read, forwarding the good ones to everyone at work.

Once you've got your way into one account, you're hooked. The rest of the night is then spent trying to remember all your old email addresses.

Admit it, you're making a list and you're off to check them, aren't you?

The Great Cutlery Mystery

In your kitchen drawer, you have 3 main cutlery items... what are they?

Go on, say them as you would normally.... do it now!

...

...

...

...

OK. Did you say it?

So did you say Knives, Forks and Spoons?

If you didn't then you're a weirdo and I'm referring you to my Gran.

This was a Monday Morning Mystery a few weeks ago. I asked Tracy and Sue the same question. Guess what, they both said "Knives, Forks and Spoons".

So when I asked what order they had them in the cutlery drawer, what did they say?

Sue said "Knives, Forks and Spoons".

Tracy said "Spoons, Knives and Forks".

What's that all about??? Why do you say it oneway then do it another??? What's wrong with the woman??? You go to the drawer and you put them in the order you say them. It's people like this that create confusion in the world.

She was obviously trained by my Gran.

Sue reckons it's coz Tracy has a drink problem - I'm now watching my Gran for signs of her being on the sauce...

My Gran comes round my house, washes up cutlery and then rams the buggers in the drawer in any old random order so that you practically have to pull half the drawer out to find a fork for tea. Good job she's my Gran or I'd give her a slap.

What is wrong with these people. Were they just born to create total havok and mayhem in the world? Answers on a postcard please.

Grumpy Old Mum is here

If you worked for me you'd know that I'm never done moaning, or swearing, about something or someone.

I didn't used to be like this.

Everyone ends up like me in the end though.

Some get it sooner, some get it later, but eventually, everyone experiences the "Day of Realisation" where they wake up and think "WTF???".

The next thing that happens is that all those people who have walked over you and treated you like a muppet for years suddenly start getting a piece of your mind.

The Day of Realisation also increases the number of swear words in your vocabulary ten-fold.

Small things really get on your wick. Where you used to bite your tongue, you say exactly what you think. You lose your tollerance of idiots, policy and procedure, pointless meetings, and people who whinge but appear to have nothing to whinge about.

I, on the other hand, have plenty to whinge about as I'm a Grumpy Old Mum with no patience.