battle weary

A good day yesterday in that my Centrelink fears were largely assuaged. A rollercoaster of emotions before my 3pm Centrelink appointment. Trying to fill out the horrendous Job Diary, I decided the task – it appeared that I had to fill out details for twelve jobs a fortnight, over six fortnights, as well as several weeks of mutual obligation stuff – was beyond me. I would go to my appointment, tell them I preferred to give up benefits rather than be harassed and humiliated in this way, and walk out with dignity intact and wallet empty. I would accept JS’ one-day-a-week job offer, for a measly $72, (which would probably mean not going ahead with assisting in English conversation classes, which would’ve been fun but unremunerative) and try to hustle other work, tutoring in ESL, gardening, cleaning, anything…

I was in two minds about even turning up for the 3pm interview, but I’d filled out my previous fortnight’s dole form, and I should hand it in for one last payment at least. I tried passing the form through at the front counter, but then it was suggested I should hold onto it and hand it over to the interviewer. So there was no easy escape. So I stood waiting to be called, too agitated in fact to sit down, rehearsing the words I would say, the precise nature and direction of my righteous indignation. I would insist that my ire was directed at the heartlessness of government, not at Centrelink staff. I imagined a staffer trying half-heartedly to defend the government’s line, to insist that there was a certain obligation, considering that I was paid… I would cut them off, saying that I was to be paid no longer, that the mutual obligation, such as it was, had come to an end, so any lecturing would be inappropriate…

I was called and the staffer kindly showed me to her desk at the very back of the private offices area. I recognised her as the person who had dealt with my case a few months previously. That interview had been difficult because I was in poor health, and I remembered her sympathy. I told her I hoped this interview would be short and sweet, and launched into my objections to and frustrations with this mutual obligation palaver. She immediately assured me that I’d got the stuff about the job diary all wrong, I had merely to copy into it the same info that I put on my form, and since I had already, at the previous interview, proved my credentials in terms of community work, that, too wouldn’t be a problem. She rang someone in policy for confirmation of various processes, told me I could ditch the old job diary and start again. Unfortunately something of the sort had to be filled out, though she made it as easy as possible, agreeing that it was overly humiliating ‘especially for someone of your age’. She made this point of my age a couple of times, and I wasn’t too sure about that. I felt I was perhaps being treated as a well-meaning old soak who shouldn’t be put to too much stress, rather than being recognised as a doughty veteran of many a Centrelink and DSS campaign. I should get a medal, I reckon. Anyway, I was very grateful for her assurances, and I left the place feeling much lightened.