Every two weeks I have to make the trip down to my local job centre to speak to a job centre person. It's usually the same person who sits behind a desk looking smug, plainly knowing that their job is save due to the shit the rest of us are in - if I'm lucky they have remembered my name, generally my luck is out.
Walking in to the Job Centre is depressing enough but what is worse, is when you have to go upstairs - yes upstairs, where those out of work for more than six months are sent, those who are no longer allowed job seekers allowance and aren't entitled to a penny if their other half is in gainful employment. The doomed...and aren't we made to feel it.
The uncaring person behind the desk, views you with a sigh, clearly you are failing because you should have taken that shite job cleaning in that factory, never mind that you have over eighteen years experience in your profession and you don't think working a six hour week at below minimum wage, is worth doing. No, you should be grateful that there are jobs out there, the fact they are either, jobs you have no experience at or, the qualifications for is beside the point, (I should have studied to be a web designer, I missed out there!), or that it's some shitty job that you know you'll walk out of before an hour is up because you value your sanity too much. You sign the piece of paper they hand you, to prove you can get your arse to the dreaded place and leave, a cloud of uselessness raining down on your sorry head.
Job Centres fucking, bloody, portals to Hell!
YOU should see how it feels Gordon fucking Brown!
Job Centres Are The Portals To Hell.
Friday 19 December 2008
Posted by The Redundant Girl at 18:06
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5 comments:
Hello. Yes, it's so shit, I know how you feel, I've been there. I even blogged about how limp my local jobcentre is back in Jan. It's here:
http://dontbelatenow.blogspot.com/2008/01/get-on-your-bike.html
It won't make you feel any better unless you have a very dark sense of humour.
Anyway good luck to you and have a Happy Christmas.
Its been ages since I had to endure the job centre. They had replaced the boards with touch screen computers which you had to pick the job type rather than display every job in the area. Don't let the bastards grind you down, the system is in place to do just that.
I tend to find having a job takes away the need to visit job centres.
Perhaps some of the workshy layabouts living off my taxes might consider this for 2009.
That way I won't kill the queue of soap dodging inbreds snuffling round the benefits trough every Monday in the Post Office.
I'll hold on to my gun, though. Just in case.
Thanks office pest, same to you on the seasonal greetings.
I've been ground festooned...grrround!!
Oh, ya bastard Mr H!
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