The dole office meeting

Having completed the lengthy and completely unnecessary online application for job-seekers allowance (the dole), I was given a meeting at the Galashiels job centre to finalise the paper work and be officially on benefits.  Its somthing I’ve done before. Many people dont know this but if your a student and dont have a job in the holidays the government actually give you money.

Having had next to no sleep and in no mood to talk to anyone let alone complete strangers I walk in and confirm my appointment.  I’m shown to the waiting area (which was literally like walking into the Green Room for the Jermey Kyle show) and sit down opposite a girl who I assumed to be in her late teens and the mother of six children to six different fathers.  She was the stereotypical child-benefit leech who when asked for an inspirational person would write “Rihanna” and inspirational quote “Hakuna matata.”  Never got a chance to speak to her sadly, she was too busy playing with her I-Phone 4s. Seeing her 4s did however go someway to subside the worry that I was going to be paid in sports direct vouchers.

Luckily, I didnt have to wait long before I was taken to my ‘job rep’ and one step closer to fucking off and going to bed.  Not to judge a book by its cover or anything but on approach my rep appeared to be an incredbily fat, depressed , 20 somthing that i was going to take an instant dislike to. If I was to judge a book by its cover, and I am, she was all 32 harbound copies of Encyclopedia Britannica wrapped into one, except she wasnt full of general knowledge she was full of shit. I’m possibly being unfair but on a serious note, she was one broken chair away from prescription Zumba! I really dont have anything against fat people but apparently I do when I’ve had no sleep.

Chunky Malone was first to speak “Hi, hows it going?”

“No bad ursel?

“One day closer to the weekend” she chuckles

Thats exactly what you want to here from the woman in charge of getting you a job! I cant remember what I said but im failry sure it didnt make any sence whatsoever, but it was still a broad enough statement to move the coversation on while still hiding my utter distain for everything she stands for.

“So you have a degree in Sport Science, do you just go around playing sport? haha”

“Haha, no we just try our best to make fat people healthier!”

Her face drops and it then all became about as awkard as the Pope calling the Queen a cunt. It wasn’t meant to be an attack but she took it as one and in hindsight it did look like a viscious kick to the crouch. To be fair though she does have have a job and I dont. She also has a cat judging from the picture on her desk. Aye of course she has a fucking cat!

Anyway after spending a very awkward 5 minutes or so going through potential jobs we relise there are none and make an appointment for the end of the month. Hopefully it will be a much happier affair and luckily for her I dont hold a grudge. Personally, I think its the start of somthing special!

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Im like Robinson Crusoe, but in a house not an Island!

As 2012 is now well and trully underway so begins the rest of my life. The plan? Get a job of ANY sort then travel far and wide having many wild adventures. BOOM!

However their exists a problem. There are no jobs, I have a limited degree (2:2 Bsc Sports and Exercise Science) and I have more dedt than Greece, Spain and Ireland combined. In result I have decided to blog my attemps, trials and tribulations at raising the desired funds for the trip of a lifetime.

Firstly, It has to be said that I have the literacy skills of a deaf and dumb Polish Child. Let this be a warning, I cant write for shit! I have good reason though as my Primary School was infact a School for the dyslexic. It wasnt meant to be but we were so poorly educated it turned out to be the case. It wasnt helped by the fact that the School was situated in a rough council estate where core subjects were how to walk not run in corridor and who can keep a large class of children entertained while the teacher sniffs glue in the supply closet. Na, if I remember correctly I had a cold the day we did punctuation in Primary School.

Incidently, my poor level of English is another hurdle to overcome in my quest for a job. About two months ago I accidently sent a C.V entitled WANKSTAIN to a Sporting goods company in respose to a job advert. No word of a lie, I had to download my C.V from one computer to another and give it a name that would be easy to find when I searched the documents.  I never did hear back from them.

Hopefully my functional illiteracy shouldn’t be too big a problem as I will take any job going. The quest for a job is beginning. The only thing I can do is put in the time and effort and remain as optimitic as possible. I mean, there is only so much porn an unemplyed man can watch before it starts to cross the line from shamefull to the down right despicable!

The way i see it, if the person who has been styling Jedward for the past year is getting paid work then there is hope for everyone.