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Popularity Contest

Got my ‘official’ letter giving the starting day of my ‘Work Experience Provision’ course today. Next Monday it is.

It says: ‘We would be grateful if you could arrive ten minutes early, due to the popularity of this training opportunity, we cannot guarantee your place if you arrive late.’ Notwithstanding the lousy punctuation (there should be a period after ‘early’), the idea of a course which is mandatory—if you’ve been unemployed for 18 months, you get shoved on this or lose your benefit—being ‘popular’ is absolutely hysterical.
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Der Fuehrer Sez Jump!

I was talking to mom about this New Deal stuff earlier, and in particular having a moan about how I felt misled, i.e. that this work placement would be waged, etc. She said: ‘Well, they’ll do anything to get you on these things. They’re just doing what Mein Fuehrer says.’

(Mein Fuehrer probably meant Tony Blair. I didn’t bother asking.)
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Going, Going, Gone! [redux]

We drove past our new flat today. There’s an estate agents board out the front which says SOLD… and for once, I’m looking at those words and knowing it means the place is ours. Bar the formalities.

That’s an incredibly peculiar feeling. Apart from several brief, abortive periods of moving away to my own place, I’ve lived in this house for just over 19 years. Which is the bigger part of my life. Even worse, I’ve never really liked this house, or the street, or the neighbours. It’s a long time to be living somewhere you don’t like.
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Definitely Maybe Moving

Well, yes, we might have a new home! The flat’s location is okay. In fact, in terms of public transport, it’s excellent. The estate is a bit, uh, mediocre. The flat itself is just average, and needs to be completely redecorated. But it could be a lot worse.

It was brand new on the market, so we were the first to view it. Mom decided to say we were interested. We got a call late this afternoon from the estate agents to tell us the seller was agreeable, so it’s ours if we want it.

As always, for me, mixed feelings. Somewhere just a wee bit nicer would make me feel better, really. But, the truth is, nothing else vaguely acceptable and within our budget might turn up for another six months. Our financial situation is bad. The car’s MOT and tax is up early next week, and we can’t afford to renew it, so until we move and have more spare cash, the car’s out of action.
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Same Old Deal

The New Deal appointment I had today didn’t go terribly well, really. The person I saw seemed intent on using the word ‘mandatory’ every other sentence and underlining every single point with the clear threat of benefit cessation.

Who trains these people? Are they given any hints whatsoever about basic psychology? Or are they so used to dealing with half-witted, apathetic zombots that someone with an individual point of view is an alien concept? What is the purpose of emphasising all the negative aspects of this wretched system instead of trying to create the impression that something positive can come out of it? I might actually respond to positivity—I certainly won’t respond to browbeating, implicit threats or horribly negative words like ‘mandatory.’
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