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So as some of you know we're moving.

So here's the details for those of you that don't know and now I can blog about it publically and fully!

On September 14th 2007 Brad and I are moving to Galway, Ireland.

Thirteen Weeks and four days to go!

Time to start packing!

Seriously someone, what is wrong with me?

I hate Radio 1 yet it's all I ever listen to... other than occasionally Steve Wright on Radio 2 and then then 6.30pm comedy slot on Radio 4.

I listen to twat-features Moyles in the morning but I blame that on Brad. He has a crush on Dominic.

Radio 1 is on the wireless at work to put up with the Jo "I can't think of anything new" Wiley, the crap "lets try to be trendy" news and then the worlds worst radio presenter ever comes on (I'm not including Fern and Reggie as they are just children playing with walkie talkies and introducing records... they are not radio presenters... they are just wank!).

Edith "I'll fucking smack her if she says 'er' once more" Bowman!

"Hi er and er welcome er to er the er Edith er Bowman er lunch er time er show er on er radio er 1 er fm!"

Or words similar to that!

So... taking that in to account....

WHAT, FOR THE LOVE OF MARY KATE AND ASHLEY, DID I CALL THE SHOW FOR?

All I wanted to do was have a go at the logical song! So why the fuck didn't I text in???

NO!

I HAD TO FUCKING RING!!!

AND GET FUCKING PICKED TO GO LIVE ON AIR!

Not only do I give my first name, a name I hate and don't want to use, but I also agree to let them phone me back so I go "chat with Edith!"

Why didn't I just say "well actually I'd rather not!" and just give my answer!

So I go on, I chat with Edith, I tell her briefly about my day and what I do for a living and that I'm heading home and the she asks me what I think the answer is.

Keep in mind I'm already pissed off for calling, using my first name AND talking to Edith so I then go and give the wrong fucking answer! Mind you, it was only after the first clue, which was "the title of this song is a popular tourist destination".

Why oh why oh why did I put myself through that? Why did I sit there letting Brad text as many people as he could?

WHY DO I SOUND LIKE A GAY JASPER CARROT?

Mother didn't raise me like this. I had fucking elocution lessons! I shall tell her to demand her fucking money back.

September 2006 I applied for a job with the local division of a national charity. The day before we flew to Ireland I had an invitation to attend and interview on the day we arrived back. I rang the office, explained I wouldn’t be about and the interview was changed to the next day.

October 3rd 2006 at 10.30am I had my job interview and it went so well that later that afternoon the manager rang me and offered me the job, which I accepted.

I started on October 9th and I was given an instruction sheet.

“You need to ring this number,” said Vicky point to a telephone number for the Criminal Records Bureau, “and give them the reference number and request a form for a CRB check.”

I rang that afternoon and a few days later my half-completed form arrive back. I filled in all the information I needed to and then took with me to the office so Vicky could check it over, sign the parts she needed to sign and then send it off.

First it got sent to Carmarthenshire County Council, who graciously pays for our CRB checks. They had to give the form the once over and then send it off to the bureau.

“These sometimes take a while to come back,” said Vicky.
“Yeah, I’ve done a few of these what with the ambulance service, nursing and fostering,” I replied.

October finished and November flew by into December.

“I still haven’t had my CRB check back yet.”
“Remind me in the New Year and we’ll sort it out then.”

January came and a few days in I reminded (or remound as Affie would say) her that I still hadn’t had my CRB clearance through. She made a few phone calls and reported back that it was in the system.

January left and we entered February.

“If it’s not back by the end of the month we’ll sort it then.”

February ended!

Vicky made the phone calls she need to make only to be told it was still in the system.

During the first week of April I received a letter from the council asking for further information with regard to my previous addresses. I gave the letter to Vicky to deal with along with the information requested and Vicky was told to post it back to the council. Which she did!

April 17th that information was sent to the bureau.

So lets look at today.

Vicky makes the phone call asking where my CRB check is.

After much investigating the information sent to them in April is still sat on a desk at the CRB office, whereas it should be with the police.

Ten months.

Ten months I have been working here with no valid CRB reference.

We are a national charity that helps families in crisis. One of the rules with regard to the families with help is that the family must have at least one child under five years old.

So… a family in crisis would be classed as a vulnerable family.

And I’m working with them.

Without a CRB check!

For ten months.

There is something wrong here isn’t there?

I’m quite tempted to seek legal advice for the stress this has caused. How does it look to my bosses that my police check is taking so long? I’m starting to question what I’ve done wrong, even though I know it’s nothing.