The Big Personality Test Results

The rest of the British public had finished filling in their forms on the BBC Website for the Big Personality Test, so I decided to have a go. The outcome surprised me a little. Well, part of it.

I scored High in three areas, and Low in two.

Openness - High

Describes to what extent you are open to novel ideas, creative experiences and different values. I guess dancing around a washing up bowl of water at 3am and whacking 5 willow twigs in to the dirt at 5am might count as some of the above, both of which I encountered with a sense of fun. I like new things. My mother always said I was a bit different. All I need to do now is to translate that sense of openness to a working world, where new tasks and projects still (internally) catch me like a rabbit caught in headlights.

Extroversion - Low

Describes to what extent you are inclined to experience positive emotions and how attracted you are to social, stimulating experiences.

Hmm... define 'social stimulating experiences'. Sounds a bit dicey to me.

I guess I can agree with the first part of the statement - I have to work at being 'glass half full'.

Apparently introverted people aren't shy, and I'm not. I have always been the type of person who can amuse herself for hours. You name it - Lego, Playpeople, reading, colouring in. Who wants to take turns when there is only one bike? And share sweets? Forget it. My pocket money, my sweets. Buy your own. I have never needed a crowd of people to keep me occupied (which is what this is all about) and spend a lot of time on my own. Way too much time.

Wow - no wonder I have bob-all. If the laws of the Universe and 'what you give you get back' are anything to go by, then this simple test explains a lot...

Agreeableness - High

Describes to what extent you are concerned about the feelings of others and how easily you form bonds with people.

I thought that agreeableness was a good thing - getting along with others. Apparently not. High agreeableness = people pleaser = doormat.

No wonder I didn't want to play with other kids or share my sweets.

Okay, so list of things to do (so far):

1. Spend more time with other people.
2. If you can't afford to take a bottle of wine, take a nice pack of biscuits.
3. Take biscuits out of handbag when you arrive rather than thinking that your friends look like they are putting on weight and would be better off without them.
4. If someone offers you some work 'without pay but it would be good experience for you' tell them to stick it where the Light doesn't shine. Politely, of course.

Neuroticism - High

Describes to what extent you react to perceived threats and stressful situations.

See 'Rabbit caught in headlights' above.

Apparently being neurotic isn't such a bad thing - in fact, if it is combined with a Conscientiousness rating of High then it can make for a successful career.

Conscientiousness - Low

Describes to what extent you are organised, strategic and forward-planning.

Oh. Surely this should be High. I am organised. Kind of. Or should that be a bit OCD?

I've always known where I am heading. Hmmm... then again, let's rethink that. No, I haven't. I've been wandering round in the flowery maze in my head since the day I was born. Avoiding all people and keeping my sweets to myself, thank you very much. The other thing about conscientious people is that they get things done. They finish what they

The Eyes Have It

So, like any other introspective and somewhat anal human being, I watched Child Of Our Time, the Big Personality Test tonight.

In advance of the series, the BBC were running a Personality Test on their website, and the results are already available for the UK. And given that the Big Personality Online Test is currently unavailable due to high demand now that the program has finished, I figure that there are a lot more people out there in the UK pondering where they fit in.

The tests measured 5 attributes of personality, namely Openness, Conscientiousness, Extroversion, Agreeableness and Neuroticism. Can you guess where I would score high? Go on, I bet you can't. Anyhow, all will be revealed when the fellow web-dwellers of the nation hurry up and finish their tests so that I can have a go.

Whilst I was waiting, I decided to search for a test they had mentioned. Buggered if I can remember what attribute it was testing for, but it was created by Ali G's dad, Professor Simon Baron-Cohen.

The test is to see whether you can accurately read a person's emotion just by looking at a picture of their eyes. And I was pleasantly surprised, because I scored 30 out of 36.

What perturbed me were the ones I got wrong....

Men's eyes being friendly.

Men's eyes being caring.

Men's eyes being interested.

There's a link there, somehow, to my single status, perhaps.

And further evidence to my personality being conscientious to the point of dangerous perfectionism (I so wanted to get every single question right).

It's fun. It takes ten minutes. Have a go and see how you get on. But don't send me a photo of the reaction to your results, because there's one chance in six I won't be able to guess...

Mind in the Eyes Test

Car Boot Take II - careful what you wish for

My last car boot sale, back in early December 2009, was a highly profitable affair. I had 15 boxes of crap (I mean, high quality goods) to sell, including my life's collection of CDs, two socket sets, a genuine 1977 Donald Duck marionette puppet, boxes of books, heaps of tatty handbags and backpacks, roller blades and a pair of blue snorkelling fins, size 6.

I came home with 10 boxes filled with half of the CDs, most of the books, most of the handbags, the roller blades, the fins... and £165 in my pocket. So something must have sold.

And I was sure that I would have sold more if it hadn't completely pissed down with rain all day. It rained heavily from start to finish, bar one hour around lunchtime where it decided to give us a break with some light drizzle.

Before I moved house I went through the car boot boxes again, and gave several boxes full of naff items away to charity. I also sold the rest of my CDs as a job lot for £80, which is not to be sniffed at. My friend then gave me a couple of boxes of DVDs, some silk scarves and pashminas, and a box of travel books.

All I needed was a nice sunny day and a second car boot sale, and I would be quids in. Sure as eggs are eggs. And this weekend, that ideal opportunity arrived.

When my Dad and I set off for a local (and rather huge and promising) car boot sale, I had six boxes of high quality goods. They were bound to sell. The weather forecast was looking good. I was on to a winner.

5 hours later found me packing 5 boxes back in to the car, having made a total profit of £35.

Why? It was too bloody hot.

All of the punters had gone to the seaside, or were sitting under trees in their back gardens, lighting barbecues and drinking Pimms. Or burning to a crisp in the sun and getting trolleyed on cheap lager. Or whatever it is that people wearing "I'm drunk but your still ugly" T-shirts do when they are not at a car boot sale (my still ugly what, precisely? I am perplexed that they didn't seem to finish printing this garment...)

There were rows and rows of traders, all baking in the sun or selling from the relative shade of their car seats, occasionally meandering up to the nearby ice-cream van across earth that was too parched to dig a jumbo umbrella in to without dying from dehydration. The few people who had turned up to have a browse seemed to be far too wilted to reach in to their pockets for a little bit of small change, and far too limp to carry a DVD 100 metres back to the car.

I've seen more life in a beige rug, to be honest.

Later that evening, 4 of the boxes were dropped off at a local charity, to see if they would have any better luck. One of the boxes contains items that for reasons unknown to me, I am loathe to give away without just one more try at getting some cash for them.

It wasn't all bad, though. For one thing, I now have heaps of small change. For another, the roller blades, the spider catcher and the dust buster have finally gone. And I did put a smile on the faces of the people I pushed to reluctantly haggle with me, when I accepted the first offer they made. Oh, and best of all, I timed my visit to the ice-cream van perfectly - 5 minutes before he left - thus preventing the day from being a total disaster.

In any event, even a job with minimum wage is going to make me feel like a millionaire in comparison to what I brought home.

Yes, okay, I get the hint. If I want to earn money, I need to go out and get a bloody job....

What's with the Conversations About God?

Perhaps this is a sign from the Universe for me to stop talking about the Light and miracles and spiritual holidays and energy, and start doing as a means of actually manifesting something for a change, but over the last couple of days people have wanted to talk to me about God.

I was walking to the station on Wednesday, and bumped in to a chap who I think lives in the flat opposite. I say I think because people's faces never stick. But I know I have said hello to him at some point not so long ago. At least, I think it was him.

Anyhow, he stopped me in the street and said "Hello again, I'd really like to have your phone number"

There's nothing like the direct approach, I guess, but I don't really like giving out my phone number to virtual strangers.

I hesitated, so he continued "I'd really like to spend some time with you and talk to you about God".

Oh, okay, not exactly the best chat up line. I made a hasty exit with the excuse that I had to dash and would probably see him around.

Or maybe hopefully not.

Then yesterday the door intercom beeped and I answered it. It was the Jehovah's Witness who had caught me on the doorstep a few weeks ago. Now, what was her name? Tania? Delia? Lobelia? Can't remember.

"Hello, is that Natasha?"

Errr... noooo... there is no Natasha here...

"I came to speak to you a little while ago. I would love to talk to you about all of your Kabbalistic things"

Hmm... I thought about letting her in, but decided that I didn't want to spend the next half hour having someone try to convert my beliefs under the pretence of being interested in them. I am under no illusion that it would be a tall order to convert a JW. She is a lovely lady, but if anything, all that we have in common may be a terrible memory for names.

I'm not in the mood for converting anyone, as it happens. Love Thy Neighbour. Whoever they may be. But when you have job applications to complete, perhaps long meanderings on Theology and Philosophy are really not a priority.

I wonder who will be next....?

A Hairy Challenge

Last night was the New Moon of Gemini.

I know, I know - this is all a little bit early, but in the Kabbalistic calendar we have already moved from lumbering, earth bound Taurus to flitty, flighty, up-in-the-air Gemini.

Now, I'm not saying that it is difficult for Gemini's to finish what they start, but since opening this blog post I've already changed my mind three times on what I want to write. And then I thought I might go and get something to eat, but I couldn't decide what, and then I listened to a bit of music and...

Where was I? Oh yes, beards.

It is beard season at the Kabbalah centre. Not a place that a pogonophobe would choose to be. Facial hair, by all accounts, (and maybe even other hair - I hadn't even thought about other hair) stores negativity. And so during the negative periods such as The Counting of the Omer, the men grow their beards as a form of protection. A kind of hairy shield, if you will.

Personally I would consider any beard as a shield that will keep them safe from women. Or at least, keep them safe from me. You never know what could be lurking in a beard. I like to keep a safe distance just in case.

Anyhow, I digress. Again.

What fascinates me are the variety of beards being grown at the centre and how they change the general appearance of the owner of said beard. We have full, thick, chunky beards, wispy beards, patchy beards, beards a totally different colour from head hair, beards that you could lose an arm in, and beards that you couldn't run barefoot through.

There are beard owners who have had beards before and seem at ease with their facial hair, deftly curling their moustaches out of the way of their top lip before they eat. And there are beard owners driven half crazy by their facial hair, scratching and rubbing away in discomfort.

The variety of beards is endless, and it reminded me of a conversation I overheard between two men when I worked at GSK. One of them was baby-faced and smooth skinned, the other had a defined five o'clock shadow by 10:30 every morning and was known to have grown a substantial beard during a single IT migration weekend.

"This is really amazing" said Babyface "I can't believe all of the stubble that you have at this time of day. I can leave my face for ages without shaving. You and I should get together some time and have a proper beard growing competition"

"Great idea" says the second guy "What are you doing Tuesday lunchtime?"

The Light is all around

I believe that we are surrounded at all times by the energy of the Universe. Call it what you will - some refer to it as the Law of Attraction, others manifest using NLP techniques, others will call it God.

Most of the time this is outside of our awareness. Unless we do something radical to open up our perceptions, the majority of the day we spend being limited by our five senses. By believing that only what we see or hear is all that is. Or at least, that's how it is most days for me. Even after studying Kabbalah for nearly two years and seeing so many minor miracles and 'coincidences', I still forget. I'm still wrapped up in my head, believing that I have to solve everything on my own.

This Saturday at shabbat, somebody I had never seen before stepped up to give the lecture and rather than focusing on events from the Torah, he told a personal story. A story that had such an effect on me that I would like to share. I'm not really sure that I can do the story justice.

The man is from the LA centre, and has been teaching Kabbalah for 20 years. He knows that the Light exists. He teaches his students that the Light exists. But still, like anybody else, his day is filled with seeing the One Percent Reality of day to day life.

Three weeks ago he was struck down with stomach flu and was in a lot of pain. He was unable to eat or drink, but expecting it to last no more than a couple of days, he decided to ride it out. On the fourth day, he was still in an awful lot of pain, but he was able to drink. And so he drank - copious amounts of water to flush the bug from his system. There was only one problem with this - he discovered that he couldn't pass water. And so his bladder began to fill. And still he couldn't pee.

By the fifth day, he was in excruciating pain. He still couldn't pee, still had pain in his stomach, felt as though his bladder was on the verge of exploding. The slightest movement was agony. His wife called an ambulance.

Throughout this time, he said, he had been praying. But as with most of us when in a difficult situation, we still have hope that there is something else that we can do. If you pray without total surrender, your prayers are heard but not answered. For as long as you think that you can possibly find a solution - that you are bigger than God - you prevent God from helping you.

Even in the ambulance, whilst he was praying through this extraordinary pain, he still thought 'it's going to be okay, because I only have to last another ten minutes, we will get to the hospital and they can free up my bladder and the pain will be over'. No need for any divine intervention.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, he was expecting to be swept straight in to a cubicle, but instead they stopped him in the entrance and said "Can I take your name, please?"

'What?!' he cried 'Can you not see that I am about to explode? I need treatment! Please help me!!'

Not, apparently, until he had filled out a form.

And this is the point when he really started to pray.

With his bladder relieved, he was still in pain and it was discovered that his appendix was about to burst, so they took him in for surgery. A couple of days after this he was still in the hospital in a very weak state and unable to attend shabbat for the Torah reading.

He was humbled when the Torah reading was brought to his bedside by Yehuda Berg, and surprised that as Yehuda started to read from the Torah, something was different. Yes, he looked like Yehuda, and he sounded like Yehuda, but there was something about his voice which indicated that something else was present. Something else was coming through. Something he had never experienced before.

The portion of the Torah that week related to the Lepers being healed by the High Priests. And every time Yehuda read "and the Kohanim healed the Leper" he felt something shifting inside, as though something was being removed. Three quarters of the way through the reading, he started to vomit so violently that Yehuda had to leave the room.

By the time the reading was complete, he was in such a weakened state that he could barely speak. He tried to apologise for the state he was in, and Yehuda waved his hand as if to say 'don't worry about it, it's okay'

And at this point, he said that he saw a Light coming through Yehuda, and a look in his eyes of the most unconditional love that you could imagine - the purest form of love, with no judgement attached - something that he had never witnessed before. Something that he could only now access after going through so much pain. A connection with God. A connection to what he had been believing for so many years but had never seen for himself.

The most poignant part of the story is that as the pain subsided and he began to regain his strength, so the ability to feel this pure unconditional love started to fade. He said that he didn't want the pain back, but at the same time, he did, because he longed to hold on to the strength of the love he had felt.

There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Yesterday I was contacted by an agency with a job role for a high end fashion company with a dodgy beige tartan design coveted by 90% of chavs. I looked at the job spec and turned it down. 'Too technical', I said, too 'infrastructure'. And that was true, but in the back of my mind I was more cringing at the thought of turning up for an interview wearing a skirt from Warehouse and a jacket from Wallis, or bumping in to a Fashionista with perfect skin and five inch heels, whilst wearing a coat from T.K.Maxx.

Plus I was waiting for contact from another agent with a role that I wanted more, albeit temporary. Which was obviously bound to come up.

This morning I had heard nothing. It felt as though nothing was happening, that I was alone in my efforts, responsible for making things happen. And then I remembered the story from Saturday, and reminded myself that the Light was all around. Even though I can't see it, things are happening. I need to let go of my control of how I want things to happen and allow myself to be guided on where I am meant to be.

My phone beeped. Voicemail.

"Hi, just to let you know that I've talked with the program manager to get more details on the role you turned down. Apparently they are really not looking for technical at all - more workflow. Yours is the best CV I have seen. I would really love to put you forwards and if you have a chat with them and aren't keen, then you can let me know. No interest in the fashion industry remotely required"

Hmm. This is interesting.

But I'm still not wearing beige tartan.

Pennies from Heaven

I'm not sure what's different this time round on the job seeking circuit - perhaps the stars are in better alignment - but little opportunities and short-cuts keep popping up when I least expect them.

First of all - a lesson learned, I guess - but the company offering the role I applied for recently (you know, the one that I spent 4 days solid filling out the application form) have not been in touch. Given that the interviews were meant to be held today, I'm taking that as a No.

Having said that, after not receiving an email confirmation for my application (when later confirming directly that it had been received), and speaking to one of the vaguest receptionists on the planet before having a similarly flimsy conversation with HR, leaving me none the wiser as to what was going on, my enthusiasm for working for the company had somewhat waned.

So this morning I decided to apply for the other role which had appeared out of the blue after tactfully turning down the all consuming role in Cambridge. The first step was to submit my CV, which I needed to modify. Then if I was successful, they would send me an application form.

I read through the job description and decided to take a quick look at their website. Which had a current vacancies section. Which gave a more detailed job description. And an application form so that I could skip the first level of screening and apply direct. Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle (or aunt - heaven knows, I'm hairy enough).

The application form is a bit of a doozy, however, with the employment history 'main duties' column being no more than two inches wide on paper. I might just have to modify their application form. Fortune favours the brave. But I'm still not entirely happy with my current employment being a voluntary position. It doesn't really give me the opportunity of showing them what I can do. Or is that just my pride? After all, if it's for me, it's meant to be. And if not, so what. (I know, I know, W.B. Yeats, eat your heart out).

So once again I was thrown in to the process of uhm-ing and ah-ing over how to approach this form. And then I checked my google mail account, and found an email from a different recruitment agent asking whether I was interested in a temporary Training Coordinator's contract, to start ASAP.

Yes, please. I can do that. I was back in to edit CV mode again. Perhaps if I get my application for the second role as ready as possible, I might be able to put something other than a voluntary role in the present employment section.

Before submitting my updated CV for the temporary role (just in case any moments of genius happened upon me when my brain hit the fresh air), I nipped out to Sainsbury's to pick up a few bits. And on the way home, I spotted another penny on the pavement.

And this one wasn't glued down.

A good sign, I hope. A sign that finally, things are starting to shift.

No is an answer like Yes

My mobile rang yesterday morning. Anonymous Call. Half asleep (this was before my second coffee) I answered the call, expecting to hear the voice of my friend Hen Lady to make arrangements for Friday's Day Of Escape.

Hen Lady is the friend with two twin boys, one dog and 5 chickens (namely Rodney, Trigger, Big Bird, Ollie and Nugget - Del Boy, Gandalf and Frango (formerly 'Stupid') had been decapitated by foxes, and Bling had died of old age)

But it wasn't Hen Lady, it was a young woman working for a recruitment agency, who spotted the CV I had posted online. After gathering a bit more (muddle-headed) background on what experience I had and what type of role I wanted, where I wanted to work, would I be prepared to relocate, she told me that she had a role that she would love to put me forwards for as it perfectly matched my skills. She was very excited.

The position was as a technical trainer working for a software company, in Cambridge.

Not wanting to sound incapable or inflexible (and thoroughly flattered that my CV was transforming me in to some kind of IT Training Super Hero), I agreed for her to email the job role to me and to speak again in a couple of hours.

I read the job description and discounted each of my fears, one by one.

She had advised me not to be too concerned about the requirements for technical knowledge - I didn't need to be that technical. All the same, they stated they wanted in depth knowledge of servers, programming languages and web development. I was taught a few programming languages in University but that was over ten years ago. And I know what a server is, but I couldn't tell you the difference between an Apache server and an IIS server. I mean, I've heard of them, but I figure they would like a little more detail.

I took a look at their website to get a better idea of their products. And I hate to admit this, but it was so technical, I didn't understand a single word. They have created some kind of marvellous platform, but I couldn't even tell you why, or how it could be used.

They also wanted someone with at least a year's experience of IT classroom training, including setting up the room. Okay, so I could make myself sound more impressive, but had a feeling that this might backfire on me at interview, if grilled. Because this is another area where I don't have solid experience.

And the role was in Cambridge, which would mean a long commute. Well, maybe not a long commute - the train from Kings Cross takes 50 minutes. Let's see how close to the station they are in Cambridge. Oh. They're at least 4km from the station in the middle of a business park. Sooo.... 25 minutes from the front door to Kings Cross, 50 minutes on a train to Cambridge, 20 minutes bus ride at the other end. Add on waiting time and the commute would easily be over 2 hours, each way. If I hired a car and drove there, then the 1 hr and 15 minutes up the A10, round the M25 and up the M11 would easily be two hours in rush hour. And with training sessions running from 9 to 5 (plus at least 45 minutes before and after to set up and pack up) it would be a long day.

This isn't what I want. I don't want an enormous commute combined with a steep learning curve both on the training and technical side. I also don't want to be commuting outside of London, when I have only just moved in, for the specific reason of being close to my sister and being closer to the Kabbalah Centre. And I don't want to relocate either for the same reasons. But I don't want to appear unwilling either. Yes, I am sure I am capable, but this isn't what I want.

I emailed my teacher and expressed my feelings. What I really want is to find a decent job that uses my skills, enables me to attend the centre and be near to my sister, and not take up so much of my energy and time that I cannot focus on what I really want: to find a nice man and settle down. But if I turn down this opportunity, how is that perceived by the Light?

My teacher answered in one line.

Go with your feelings with certainty. No is an answer like Yes.

I rang the recruiter and told her that her offer had given me an opportunity to focus on what I really want - and that I didn't want to relocate. She was fine - very nice, in fact - and we will continue to be in touch for similar roles in London.

So last night I set up my automatic job email feeds and had a quick scan through the first email for suitable roles. And there, a short way down the listing, was a really positive and friendly job advert, for a nice little role with a good salary, in a charitable company. And the location? Just around the corner from the centre.

As my Mum would say: "Well, I'll be blowed" Although I've no idea what that actually means.

So I'm going to apply for this role, too, with the certainty that if it's for me, it's for me. And if not, I am certain that something else is lined up and waiting.

Pride and The Penny

So here I am, 7 weeks after moving to Tottenham, innit, and I haven't even given you the low down on my living situation. And you know as soon as you read that sentence, that it is not likely that I found somewhere normal to live. Well, where would be the fun in that? I suspect you know me better.

I don't wish to bitch, so I will state the facts:

1. I am renting the bedroom of a one (yes, one) bedroom flat, from an Eastern European woman who is 13 years older than me.
2. We are very different.
3. She sleeps on the sofa bed in the living room.
4. Because this is a one bedroom flat with a combined living room and kitchen, this makes things a tad difficult when I fancy a nice cup of tea and find the door to the living room is shut. Or want to cook at any time.
5. She doesn't like me in her space in the morning.
6. She doesn't like me in her space in the evenings.
7. She doesn't really like it when I lock myself away in my room either.
8. There aren't really many other places that I can go.

I think that's enough to go by, logistically. With no money coming in and no cheaper options, I am lucky to have a roof over my head. Plus, I have to respect that I am the one with the bedroom - I'm not sure I would fancy sleeping on the sofa bed.

This morning - before I had finished drinking my coffee (and therefore was not quite yet awake) - I received a little bit of, shall we say, 'helpful advice' (a.k.a. her opinion) as to where I was going wrong.

1. I needed to restrict on my spending because I didn't have much money (okay, so this is the reason why for the past 3 weeks I have only spent money on train fare and food?)
2. That I needed to do my best on finding a job (uh-huh); and
3. That I was too closed - I needed to open up my thoughts a little bit more (actually, if she knew some of my thoughts, she would probably be grateful that I kept them to myself)

Wincing slightly from biting my tongue, I logged on to Facebook to check the energy of the day. Today was the day of Nobility in Humility - appreciation that the Light gives us messages all the time, and so to open ourselves up to listen to what other people were saying.

Oh, crap. I take it all back.

I had a meeting with my teacher today for the first time in 5 weeks. I told him of my living situation. I told him that it was not easy to stay positive. I wondered whether he would simply agree with what she said and hence deliver a double-whammy. He didn't.

"You see," he said "what the Light is telling you here is that you just need to get any job so that you can get out from where you are living. And yes, you are taking action to get a job, but even though you can get the good job in a week, sometime it take one month before you start and maybe two month for the money to come through. So before then, just go out and work on the checkout, or something. Then at least you don't have the anxiety from having no money. And the job that you are looking for will appear for you"

And this is what I had already been thinking for the past week (thanks, Sis) and was planning to do. But still, I admitted to him, I had to fight hard with my pride. Kabbalah Rookie, 1st class honours degree in Computing, working on a checkout? Or as an Office Assistant? It cannot be!, says my Pride. My teacher and I discussed the merits of being humble.

So that is what I plan to do - swallow my pride, walk in to an Agency and say "I don't care what it is, I need a job asap". So this will be interesting. And yes, maybe my landlady has a point, but I think my teacher's message was pretty clear.

Anyways, I head home and make my way to Sainsbury's to spend more money on food (have you seen the latest bargains on chocolate? My word...). As I was walking past a rather busy bus stop, I spotted a penny on the pavement. Aha! Abundance! The Universe has given me a penny! So I stopped to pick it up, curled my fingernails round the edge, and it wouldn't shift. Wtf? I tried again. Nothing happening, except for a broken nail. Great.

At this point I noticed a few eyes burning holes in the back of my head and realised that everyone at the bus stop was watching me try to pick up a penny that had been super-glued to the pavement. And you would think that a penny glued to uneven concrete would come away quite easily, but no, it seemed to be virtually welded to the spot. The penny was going nowhere. I swiftly stood up and scurried on, avoiding eye contact to the disappointment of my audience, pride turning my cheeks a nice rosy pink.

Dagnabbit.

So it looks as though the only way that the Universe is going to give me any money, is if I overcome my pride and get Any Old Job. But what a creative way to deliver a message.

Not only that, but I was sent an email from one of my personal development/positive thinking/laws of the Universe subscriptions at the same time that I was wrestling the penny, with the subject of Mixed Messages. And the case in point?

Telling the Universe that you want more money and then ignoring a penny lying on the pavement.

Okay, I think I have the message now. Can the next penny not be stuck down, please?