“Love has consequences” – why I’ve lost my benefit
As of this week, I don’t qualify for a benefit. Why? Did I suddenly get healthy enough to work fulltime? Did a distant cousin leave me their millions in Apple Continue Reading →
Category Archives: About illness
Come watch me die of embarrassment
I’m a terrible public speaker. I faked numerous stomach bugs, colds, pains and periods to get out of doing speeches at school – and now here I’ve gone and said Continue Reading →
Pick me! – Why you should care about inclusion
Inclusivity shouldn’t just be a buzzword, and it shouldn’t be put in the ‘too hard’ basket. It’s neither of those things – what it is is opportunity, for everyone involved. Continue Reading →
The WEAG Report: What was the point?
The report on recommended changes to our welfare system is now public. So far, the government response is, to be blunt, piss poor. So will it actually change anything?
Why laziness doesn’t need defending
By popular definition, I’m lazy. I work part time, I sleep a lot, I don’t do most of the exercise I probably should. I prefer reading on the couch to Continue Reading →
The right to understand
The Ministry of Justice might be set to review the way we request information from any government department. I wrote about this under the headline The Right To Know, but Continue Reading →
Write, delete, rinse, repeat
In my years of blogging I’ve tackled a lot of personal topics. I did that because I believe in talking about shit, even if it makes me vulnerable. Because when Continue Reading →
The Right To Know
The Ministry of Justice may be about to overhaul the Official Information Act, which determines the release of public information. They want your feedback on how the OIA is working Continue Reading →
The secret clause WINZ doesn’t talk about
Like something out of a badly written B grade movie, Section 66A sounds boring, and it also sounds like something a lawyer would uncover at the final hour before a Continue Reading →
Is addiction the unspoken side effect of chronic illness?
I have enough drugs in my house to kill me. Probably three or four times over. And that’s ‘normal.’ That’s just how it is.