No sooner do I write that I'll have a Work Based Interview soon that an envelope plops through the letterbox from the department of Work and Pensions. It tells me to be present at midday in a couple of week's time, during half term no less.
Shit. I won't be there. Bollocks. You need a cast iron excuse not to go. Flip, I'm crap at lying (taking a little hol with friends on the Isle of Wight).
I do need to go though, find out if volunteering is something I am allowed to do or will I be forced into paid work.
Brrrring brrrring, brrrring brrrring, takes ages to answer.
I tell the man it's half term and I won't be there.
"Are you travelling abroad?"
What difference does that make, I think to myself. Technically the Isle of Wight is abroad though isn't it....Oh I hate how nosey my symbolic husband is.
I ask the man why the interview is at a different location, not my local Jobcentre. He won't tell me. I push him for an answer: "Have they made cuts to frontline staff just as unemployment is about to rise?"
He won't tell me.
You have to tell them everything. They don't have to tell you anything. Bugs me no end.
Still, the interview's been changed to next week. Perhaps I should declare my little earnings after all.....