It is just another fucking Friday (that's my funday)
This was always going to be different to the other Fridays. I knew that from the moment I was given an appointment an hour earlier than usual with no reference to precious point B. This therefore led to a cap on my drinking and use of over the counter medication the night before, simply because early mornings do not suit the unemployed and dejected. This Friday I was due to meet my Job Centre Advisor. Now given that less than six months ago that I was responsible in my previous job in providing some degree of careers advice to 16 year olds I was understandably apprehensive. Nonetheless in all the career advice/reference writing I have given the youth of today I have always remained positive and never dismissed their aspirations. Except in those ten situations one situation where I told a student I was going to relish purchasing my late night kebab etc from them, if they could even read how to deep fry some chips and learn how to hold a knife in a non threatening manner.
The Meeting
So I arrived; less most of my documentation - which led to another hoohah and I suspect mumblings of incompetence. I think not working for several months has definitely de-skilled me to an extent and caused my organisational skills to take a considerable downturn.
Because of the earliness of my appointment there was none of the usual protracted period or waiting. But during the brief moments of wait I did notice a complete absolute piece of meat. He was not just prospective nookie material. He was and is potential marriage material. I might just make a point of rocking up an hour earlier so I can stalk his unsuspecting piece of ass.
My name was called. Incorrectly. Stupid Persian heritage. Everyone looks around. They think I am a terrorist. Not cool. This is not unusual for me, but clearly makes everyone else feel uncomfortable. They call my name again, in-spite of the fact I am standing up and walking towards them. Everyone looks tense. I want to scream the correct pronunciation of my name. I don't. I just look around the room and give everyone a knowing glance. CHRIST, if I were in a room and I heard that name called I would jump and run. I can not blame them. My neurotic laughing does not break the tension. It exacerbates it. At least when I marry my new victim I can change my name.
The Meeting
I assume the position opposite my advisor. She is not hot, nor does she seem kind. This all looks a little Pauline from the League of Gentleman.
The usual range of questions start the formalities;
"Have your circumstances changed over the last two weeks?"
"No, they have not, I am still unemployed, I am still here ,I am still not working." I already have the stubby pen jammed in-between my grubby little hands and without realising I have started stabbing the table. I can feel her eyes upon me and then her coffee stained breath swarming underneath my nostrils.
"Now, today I am going to talk you about a few things. This is our first meeting, I doubt I will get through everything, but hopefully I will get a better idea of you and you will have a better idea of what we can do for you."
Before she can continue, I abruptly interject "I am not doing a work trial if this is what this is about and I am not going to a job club". The swarm builds up under my nose again, I brace myself as she is about to speak.
"First of all I need to re-confirm your details."
Details were duly confirmed.
"Now, what difficulties have you been facing?"
"Many, I won't bore you with details of my life."
"Okay, so let me help you, for example, could the reason be you have not had a success finding a job be because you have any previous convictions?"
"Do train fines count?"
"No. What about drugs and alcohol issues?"
At this point I notice that she has a certificate in her pod which displays the words "Suicide Awareness Training". I hope she does not think that my shuffling about from side to side and scratching of my face is a sign. I have terribly itchy acne and because of the early rise I consumed three coffees and I am desperate for the loo. Which makes me think, that in all likelihood that it is in-fact my coffee breath making me retch.The retching probably makes her think I am a drug addict, along with the awful skin and swaying. Anyway, noticing this certificate does not stop me blurting out "I had no problem with alcohol until I became unemployed". She did not laugh. I find myself stressing that I was attempting to be funny, in return she gives me a pitiful look.
She moves us on swiftly from this part of the conversation. I was quite grateful.
Action Stations
"I wish to explain to you one of your new action goals. In light of our conversation you are now having to attend a job club. Here are some leaflets with maps and details of ones in your local area."
As she has in-putted this on the system and written it down, there is no getting out of it. The only way I can get out of it is if I sign off. Bugger.
"Secondly , if you can not find a job in your area of expertise within the next month you will have to explore other fields of interest" She looks awfully pleased about this. It is a snear I have employed before, a snear of haha you loser. GOD I AM A LOSER.
"I am not sorry for what I am about to say to you. I know and understand you are doing your job. But please understand my position, I spent so many years at university and I have spent 8 years more or less working in the public sector. I am not giving that up.You can not expect me after 6 weeks of signing to be told that. There are people who are signed on for far longer, who make far less effort"
She sighs, looks more pissed off than at the start of the conversation and hisses"Yes, well this part will be actioned in our next meeting. Now next of all I wish to explain to you about work trials"
Whimpering and still swaying I manage to splutter "What?! No, sorry but no. I have cleaned toilets, been a waitress, stacked shelves, wiped bums, worked in call-centres and done all manner of work. I am by and large experienced. Really, please offer that to a 19 year old who needs it. Putting me in a work trial is truly a waste of your resources organising the placement and so forth. I will do volunteer work which is clearly linked to my career."
Frostier still "Again, we will action this in our next meeting."
"Um, I am not entirely sure you are listening? "
Definitely not listening.
"Please sign here. Your next meeting is after the holidays.Have a Happy Christmas"
The only good thing I thought was to come from this was finally claiming a stubby pen of my own, but literally when leaving the job centre I got a phone call offering me an interview for a very interesting job.I am still awaiting the details of what I am going to have to present. But rest assured I will, no matter what work in a verse of Apple Bottom Jeans if it kills me.
In other news...
The usual range of questions start the formalities;
"Have your circumstances changed over the last two weeks?"
"No, they have not, I am still unemployed, I am still here ,I am still not working." I already have the stubby pen jammed in-between my grubby little hands and without realising I have started stabbing the table. I can feel her eyes upon me and then her coffee stained breath swarming underneath my nostrils.
"Now, today I am going to talk you about a few things. This is our first meeting, I doubt I will get through everything, but hopefully I will get a better idea of you and you will have a better idea of what we can do for you."
Before she can continue, I abruptly interject "I am not doing a work trial if this is what this is about and I am not going to a job club". The swarm builds up under my nose again, I brace myself as she is about to speak.
"First of all I need to re-confirm your details."
Details were duly confirmed.
"Now, what difficulties have you been facing?"
"Many, I won't bore you with details of my life."
"Okay, so let me help you, for example, could the reason be you have not had a success finding a job be because you have any previous convictions?"
"Do train fines count?"
"No. What about drugs and alcohol issues?"
At this point I notice that she has a certificate in her pod which displays the words "Suicide Awareness Training". I hope she does not think that my shuffling about from side to side and scratching of my face is a sign. I have terribly itchy acne and because of the early rise I consumed three coffees and I am desperate for the loo. Which makes me think, that in all likelihood that it is in-fact my coffee breath making me retch.The retching probably makes her think I am a drug addict, along with the awful skin and swaying. Anyway, noticing this certificate does not stop me blurting out "I had no problem with alcohol until I became unemployed". She did not laugh. I find myself stressing that I was attempting to be funny, in return she gives me a pitiful look.
She moves us on swiftly from this part of the conversation. I was quite grateful.
Action Stations
"I wish to explain to you one of your new action goals. In light of our conversation you are now having to attend a job club. Here are some leaflets with maps and details of ones in your local area."
As she has in-putted this on the system and written it down, there is no getting out of it. The only way I can get out of it is if I sign off. Bugger.
"Secondly , if you can not find a job in your area of expertise within the next month you will have to explore other fields of interest" She looks awfully pleased about this. It is a snear I have employed before, a snear of haha you loser. GOD I AM A LOSER.
"I am not sorry for what I am about to say to you. I know and understand you are doing your job. But please understand my position, I spent so many years at university and I have spent 8 years more or less working in the public sector. I am not giving that up.You can not expect me after 6 weeks of signing to be told that. There are people who are signed on for far longer, who make far less effort"
She sighs, looks more pissed off than at the start of the conversation and hisses"Yes, well this part will be actioned in our next meeting. Now next of all I wish to explain to you about work trials"
Whimpering and still swaying I manage to splutter "What?! No, sorry but no. I have cleaned toilets, been a waitress, stacked shelves, wiped bums, worked in call-centres and done all manner of work. I am by and large experienced. Really, please offer that to a 19 year old who needs it. Putting me in a work trial is truly a waste of your resources organising the placement and so forth. I will do volunteer work which is clearly linked to my career."
Frostier still "Again, we will action this in our next meeting."
"Um, I am not entirely sure you are listening? "
Definitely not listening.
"Please sign here. Your next meeting is after the holidays.Have a Happy Christmas"
The only good thing I thought was to come from this was finally claiming a stubby pen of my own, but literally when leaving the job centre I got a phone call offering me an interview for a very interesting job.I am still awaiting the details of what I am going to have to present. But rest assured I will, no matter what work in a verse of Apple Bottom Jeans if it kills me.
In other news...
- I have a black Christmas tree
- I went for breakfast with a property entrepreneur who can not help but steal teaspoons where ever we go and picks 5ps off the floor.
- We have our first meeting arranged for campaign nanny.
I'm 60 and will get my state pension in May 2012. I'm also on ESA because I have acute depression, arthritis, dizziness and other health issues. This was confirmed by a work capability assessment in July 2011. At that time the Job Centre told me I did not have to attend the Back to Work programme because of the imminent retirement date. Then about a month ago, they called me in and told me that the Government had changed the rules and I DID have to attend Back to Work sessions. It's being run by Wheatsheaf Trust, a charity and managed by a commercial company called A4E. They get money if they get me into employment for 6 months or more which clearly they cannot do yet they are still taking the money for it. It's just scandalous!
ReplyDeleteI am already doing some 'permitted work' - mystery shopping and network marketing which does not exceed the DWP earning limits right now. There is no 'bridge' which will maintain part of my benefit if I exceed the 'permitted work' limit but still don't have enough to live on, and would give me the security I need, should my health deteriorate again. This is because I am not 'employed' in the traditional sense so can't get tax credits. This seems to me to deter people from considering setting up in business for themselves.
The whole Back to Work set up is very questionable and seems to be more about making money for the companies running it without providing anything really useful. Their suggestions so far, consist of working as a volunteer doing jobs that were previously paid, before Gov. cuts and paying out of my own pocket for travel which I can't afford to do. I guess you will have been subjected to some of the same nonsense.
That is truly unfair! They can not keep shifting the goal posts (i.e. by calling you back in)- every time I go or I ring I get made to feel like I am not trying hard enough or something else has changed. I am going to have a look at Wheatsheaf trust now. Thanks for you comment!
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