Full House

The JC door is broken again. There is a tea-stained sign taped up, helpfully advising 'PUSH'.

Quite a welcoming committee. Man Mountain is back, though half hidden behind a screen. Mind you, I'd recognise those tattoos anywhere, and besides, a half of Man Mountain is equivalent to a whole average man.

Also there is Mr In-Tray and the rather bellicose lady who berated me in public for my timekeeping. She looks like a 'Brenda' to me, though she does not wear a name badge. Bellicose Brenda. Yes, that works. I match their mechanical smiles, but manage a "Good Afternoon" which leaves me feeling on the moral high ground.

I must not forget to ask for an ABI1 form which I need to send to my mortgage insurance company. I must not forget. I must not forget.

One of the WAGs from last time is in the waiting area. Another man keeps checking his watch. I'm not sure why, surely he can't be in a hurry? To do what? A young man is seated in front of a consultant, but I note it is his wife (standing behind him, dealing with a querulous toddler in a pushchair) who answers all the questions put to him. I wonder if he plans to take her to interviews with him?

I see the delightful trainee again and this time I see she has written her name on a sticky label and stuck it on her 'trainee' badge. I am glad she finally has a name, as I find her quite adorable. Emma* goes through the usual, but then we get into quite an animated conversation about networking and other issues. She notes my recent applications, which does me enough for another two weeks of state-subsidised living. I also receive a letter requiring my attendance at my 3-month interview in two weeks' time. Oh, goody. I wonder if they offer sweeties for outstanding effort?

On the way out, Man Mountain asks me where my Doc Martens are. It's a worry when you're remembered.....

At home I realise I forgot to ask for the ABI1 form.

*Name has been changed