Finally! Finally. Innit.
Yep, finally it seems I’ve had some luck. Though of course it had to get worse before it got better. You may recall how I wrote about being on benefits. Yay! I’m a benefits tart. Great. Well, I’ve been waiting on my housing benefits claim, which kind of went AWOL, only nobody told me, until I desperately phoned a special secret number last week and spoke to someone who ACTUALLY gave a rat’s arse about how I was supposed to pay my rent next month, AND seemed to know what they were doing. Phew! Funnily enough – and I’m laughing through gritted teeth here – it all got sorted muchly swiftly, and now, friends and frenemies, I am in receipt of the shiny housing benefits as well.
The relief is IMMENSE. Maximus immensus. It just means one fewer thing for me to panic about each month. The housing benefit, coupled with my income support, child benefit and child tax credits, is what’s keeping me and Moo afloat. I need to figure it all out, and write it all down, maybe create a nifty spready – just to see in black and white what my incomings and outgoings really amount to. For once in my life, I am going to have to be FINANCIALLY RESPONSIBLE AND ORGANISED. Egad.
I’ll be honest. This is not where I hoped I would be at (almost) 34 years of age. Surviving on benefits? Single parent? Nah, mate. Not me. Never thought I’d be on benefits. And as fabtastic as it is to finally have a breakthrough in matters of the monetary nature, I am kind of feeling bittersweet about it too. No one WANTS to be scraping by on benefits, do they? I think I’d much rather have a steady income from a fulfilling career. Is that ever going to happen for me? I have no idea. Maybe, in time. Once I work out how exactly to become a space pirate.
Until a job in interplanetary buccaneering becomes available, then benefits floozy I am. It ain’t so bad now it is finally done. The relief is the best thing. Working out how to keep my spirits high is an entirely different matter.
The benefits are GOOD. That’s why they’re called benefits. They’re not called detriments, are they? But they come with a side order of taboo and stigma as well. Not least from the Daily Mail brigade. Seriously, wait till they find out my granddad was a GYPSY. Man alive!
So now I’m interested: are you on benefits? How do you feel about that? Maybe you’re not at all, and resent anyone who is? Or maybe I’m the only one making a huge deal out of this and should just shut the fark up?
Leave me a comment in the vacant receptacle below and I’ll pass on some of my good breakthrough karma. Innit.