Today really has been a thoroughly crappy day.
It was my first journey to the dreaded Jobcentre. I had filled out my application online to save time when I got there, and as I like to be prompt, I arrived around 10 minutes early.
“Up the stairs” said the ‘floor manager’ (think bouncer). “I can’t go up the stairs, I’m disabled” I reply. “Is there not a lift?”.
Apparently there isn’t, well, not for minions to use – solely for staff purposes. Sigh. Disability discrimination is alive and well at the Jobcentre…. He calls upstairs and tells me someone will be down to see me. But I’ll have to wait around half an hour for them. So with my appointment time having been and gone, I take a seat and watch the clock.
After 45 minutes, I catch the eye of another man. He seems nice enough and again calls upstairs to see whats keeping them. “They won’t be long” he says with confidence. Half an hour later a lady rushes down and calls my name. We go to a desk. “I.D.” she barks while telling me of her woes with the upstairs printer. Apparently this was the cause of her lateness. I decide not to ask any more about the printer as I had by now almost given up the will to live. Then she said “Right, take a seat”. “But I’ve only just sat down with you!” I cry, trying not to sound too angry, while being bloody furious. (I’m aware of the bouncers hovering…..) she explains that I’m to wait to see someone else now. So much for the online process hurrying it up.
So I return to my seat to wait for my name to be called. By this time I had been there 2 hours, my back had seized, I need tablets and the loo. “Sorry madam, no toilet facilities” says the bouncer. “Well, can I have some water to take my medication?”. “Sorry, no facilities.” Bloody Nora!
By the time my name was called I had been there 2 1/2 hours. I was tired, sore and as a forty something mum of three, busting for a wee.
30 minutes or so later I emerged from said Jobcentre and silently drove home. What a waste of 3 hours of my life. I feel a strong letter to Iain Duncan Smith coming on….
I came in with just enough time to have a coffee and a heat pack before it was school run time. Home came Stroppy 3 demanding that she be made a Bin Weevil Tycoon immediately as she had enough pocket money to pay for it. Sigh…..
Then, to top it ALL off the ‘Golden Ticket’ auction company ‘Giving Lots’ decided not to. Give lots that is. Apparantly, I had bid on a ‘Preview Auction’ (not in the T’s&C’s) which conveniently means I don’t get the handbag or the theatre trip. I’ve sent the info to Trading Standards, who are looking into it. So please beware – and don’t always believe the T’s&C’s ……