Grumble, grumble, grumble

If you do not wish to read a ranty post, click the little X now.

I have a strange English friend who frequently rants about the NHS (and who is now recognising who I'm talking of and grinning!). I've always just put this down to the English pastime of complaining and didn't think much more of it, other than sympathise profusely (have I redeemed myself?).

Today, I agree with him wholeheartedly. Not about the NHS, but about Jobcentres and whichever bloody department runs them.

I had my appointment today for my National Insurance number. Getting the damn appointment was hard enough and this reminds me that I haven't written my complaint about that company yet. Must do that. I'll save ranting about that because you've all heard me bitch about them. But finally, 25th March rolls around and I had my appointment. I arranged the time off with work, not a problem and set off to battle the tube and track closures to get there.

To discover that they've sent me to a centrelink office in bloody Gagebrook. Usually I like getting out of the city centre for these things, it gives me a better idea about the layout of the city etc. But no, this was not fun. You read things about the LA teen gangs making their move to London and this is obviously where they're based. What a fun way to spend an afternoon.

I rock up for my appointment, early, fill out a form and wait. Am promptly taken with several others to another part of the building to wait some more. A guy comes through to do my interview and he loves Australians. All my paperwork was in order - thank god! I'd been worrying about it but it's not as big a deal as it sounded - and we make conversation about tassie devils (and I wish I'd taken Jack!), cane toads, rabbits (which were introduced into Australia by a guy who farmed in OUSE!! What are the chances!). I discover this because he'd seen Rabbit Proof Fence recently and wanted to talk about that. Mid-interview he jumps online, opens up wikipedia and shows me cane toads and about the rabbits, and then I got all excited about Thomas whoever farming near Ouse (I grew up near there and went to school there!!!) but he didn't seem to care, it wasn't part of his conversation! Finally it was all done and was told to sit on the couches again and wait for my passport. Any questions? How long will my passport be? 20mins. Good thinks I, as I have not having my passport either in my sight or with me.

1 hour and 30 mins later I get my passport.

I've come to the conclusion recently, after conversations and emails with my mother about certain things, that I get my rage levels from her, not my father as I'd previously thought. My folks had the odd row growing up as they all do and dad was always the vocal one, Tobe always quiet. In recent times I've seen her come home from school, the supermarket, friends houses where something has happened and she has raged internally about it. I do exactly the same thing (what do I say here? OMG I'm turning into my mother!). 30 mins past and I was getting kinda cranky, I wanted to get back to work. I asked the centre workers as they went backwards and forwards to be told that they were processing it, it wouldn't be long. People came and went. People who arrived AFTER I'd been waiting for said blue book for 30mins came and went. I had steam coming out of my ears.

I'm never, ever one for public confrontation, hell ANY kind of confrontation except when I'm bored (and I wasn't really in the mood), but I just wanted to strangle someone, anyone. My passport finally arrived, I snatched it and stormed off. In hindsight I feel kinda bad for not saying thank you but I'm sure I'll get over it. Didn't think until I was outside to check if it was actually MINE but it was, all good.

I left work at 12.40pm. I arrived back at work at 4.20pm. I honestly didn't think I'd make it back alive. People on the bus were pissing me off, tourists were pissing me off (a common rant these days, until reminded yesterday "Yes, but you're a tourist as well!" thanks!), the bus kept stopping at stops (the tube line I needed was too risky with closures) and I was just a cranky bum. I don't think I've ever felt so relieved to get into work, safe, cosy and familiar and to bag out English bureaucrats with proper English people.

So Toby, you'll be pleased to know that there is a Mini-Tobe toddling around London :P