Right then. Another day, andother blog entry. A quick browse of the internet news site reveals the usual outbursts of optimism from politicians and malicious violence from maladjusted mental cases. You know, all these near-fraudulent promises and murders make you feel a bit tired of the world. How could you possibly tire of day after day of sunshine, put-downs by pompous claims advisors, and the endless red tape of DIY benefits processing?

I think you need a certain level of detachment. As horrible as life sometimes is for other people, there's a point beyond which caring about other peoples circumstances really does nothing for you. That isn't because I could help them, but rather a sense of frustration that I can't. So today I must help myself.

Having checked my bank statements and so forth, I went straight to the job centre. Long queues are a thing of the past and I must admit, service is somewhat quicker than even a few years ago. The lady at the desk smiled robotically at me as I approached. It's a learned response, an instinctive reaction to seeing a dole seeker before her. Remain patient, Caldrail...

I explained the woes afflicting me. Today is the day my housing benefit gets frozen and I have no proof of Jobseekers Allowance, my only official income. She smiled back at me robotically, but apart from that showing no sign of life. With some irritation I pointed out that I'd need proof to claim my benefits. Suddenly she realised she was expected to do something, and lacking the necessary procedures logged in her mental database, she wandered off to find someone who might know what the heck I was talking about.

As it turned out she did exactly that, and a polite gentleman sorted my proof letter for me no problem whatsoever, whilst my less polite claims advisor was passing behind on the way back from her cigarette break, no doubt incensed that I was not abasing myself at her desk for this morsel of financial aid.

Then off to the council offfices. There's a large banner over the enquiries desk - Swindon Direct - Passionate About Service - and so I must wait... Waiting... Somebody just moved from one foot to the other... Waiting... One assistant is filing papers in a desk... The queue is now three times longer... Waiting... Uhh? What was that? Oh! My turn!

As usual I receive a numbered ticket and wait for my number to come up. The excitement is palpable. But unlike most of my visits there, my number was called almost immediately. I'd like to think my noble title won me instant service - somehow I doubt it. Peraps I should have bought a lottery ticket this morning instead. Letter provided, receipt stamped, I'm a happy little claimant all over again. Life goes on.

Life Making Itself Heard

Occaisionally I find myself desperate to find a certain book at the library. The staff are always helpful and concientious, and although the epic quest lasting three months filed to turn up the exotic and now extremely rare book on dark age conquest in southern Britain, usually they suceed admirably in finding the stuff I need.

My sudden move to the enquiries desk upset a baby. It burst into fits of vocal anguish, and the efforts of it's owner to silence it may have been heroic but ultimately fruitless. Hi... I'm looking for (*WAAAAAH!*)... Book on (*HI-HI-WAAAAAH!*)... The librarian smiled patiently throughout the discovery of speech going on behind me. I guess toys, milk bottles, and bouncy games don't please everyone. With a bit of luck I'll complete todays quest for litaerary satisfaction some time this afternoon... Might even get to enjoy some sunshine too.

DING! Sounds the tannoy. A female voice wearily tells us that "The fire alarm will now be tested and will sound for a short period. There is no need to take any action. Thank you"

WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH

"This is a fire alarm" Says the recorded voice in upper class officer accent, as if I actually needed to understand what was going on. Oh at last. It's finished. Right then, back to chapter three, What To Do When Bullied By FIre Alarms

WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH WEEE OOOOH "This is a fire alarm, please leave by the nearest exit."