Monday, November 15, 2004  

Biting sugar coated bullets.

The day I signed on, which was the beginning of October by the way, I gave the dole office two forms that I needed completing. One was for my mortgage and the other was for my credit card, these forms ensure that I don’t pay any of my bills for the period of my unemployment. The first form came back last week; they gave it to a fourteen-year-old chimp with learning difficulties to fill in. The chimp, obviously having difficulties defining the meaning of several basic English terms, didn’t think to ask for help, they just ticked boxes willy nilly and posted it back to me. Apparently I have been unemployed since 1995. Fucking amazing ! I was labouring under the misapprehension that I was working for an international speciality chemical manufacturer. Just goes to show, reality is very strange. I took the form back to the dole office and enquired, ever so politely, why they had filled it in incorrectly. I was puzzled by the answer – “My colleague obviously didn’t have access to certain information” said the nice lady. “Then why didn’t your colleague phone me to check the information she did have ?” I said with rising anger. “I don’t know !” said the nice lady with an air of disbelief. Fifteen minutes later the nice lady had altered 90% of the form and added a nice little footnote to tell the insurance company that I wasn’t trying to gain funds by nefarious means. I left the office in a foul mood.

This morning I realized that the dole office hadn’t sent the completed second form. I telephoned the nice lady. “I’ll just speak to my colleague and phone you back,” she said. Ten minutes later she rang to tell me that they had never received a second form. “I gave you both of them the day I signed on,” I said, with a tone of indignation that was obviously recognised. “We haven’t got it,” said the nice lady. “So you’ve lost it ?” I said, “No, it isn’t lost,” said the nice lady, clutching at straws. “Out of the two forms I gave you, you have lost one, and rendered the other all but illegible ?” I said with a resigned sigh. “It isn’t lost, we didn’t receive it” said the nice lady. I bit my tongue. Instead of calling her a liar and an incompetent workshy fop, I told her that I would ring my insurance company and ask them to send me another form.

What these fuckers can’t seem to grasp is that when they finally get round to paying me, I’ll get £55 per week, and until I get the form filled in correctly and sent off, it costs me £400 per month. Now I have never been really good at maths, but there is a slight fucking discrepancy there, is there not ?

On Saturday night we watched Bridget Jones’ Diary, it was ok I suppose, I’ve seen better. Last night we watched Chicago and it was fucking ace, excellent music and some really good one-liners. Both me and Tracy noticed the difference in Rene Zellweger’s figure; she had far more curves in BJD, and was stick thin in Chicago. I have to say I prefer Bridget to Roxy. What do you think ?

| posted by Simon | 1:06 pm | 0 comments
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