Déjà vu

God, I am so bored with this.

It's week 2 of the six-week challenge and I'm so, so bored with coming back here, with nothing much new to say and no real point in me saying it, anyway. However, the sun is shining, so I greet Man Mountain with a cheery smile. He is ruing time spent in the sun over the weekend, as he is nursing a rather pink pate. Apparently, he works as an occasional steward at sports fixtures and went on duty without sufficient lotion slapped on his forehead. Too late to suggest he should have worn a cap, so I keep my lips buttoned and move into the waiting area.

Heaving. Again. Where does everybody come from? All the desks are manned and busy and I think I spy a new consultant, so squint to see better. It's not a new consultant. It's Brenda. But (and regular readers will know, this is a jaw-dropping moment) she is NOT wearing her Monday outfit. Fot the first time in 6 months! Perhaps it has finally worn out? It's possible.

On one hand I am disappointed. With all the fabulous summer colours available, she could have gone mad with cerise or teal. But, no. It's black. Gok would say "No girlfriend, not with your colouring!" but I decide that charity is the order of the day and credit should be given for stepping outside of her comfort zone. Or should that be crumple zone?

Kate is rushing about, as usual, but eventually calls my name to follow her into her office, and without bothering to lower her voice too much, adds "Come in for your weekly rant". Said with a smile.

So, across the desk again. But at least it's with my most favourite JC person, which makes it much more bearable. "OK, off you go", says Kate and I reel off the latest - vacancies where I was being considered, but have now been rejected. New opportunities that I am currently being considered for. Speculative applications made. Networking meetings I have attended. Latest hot tips from the Job Seeker's Underground. Oh, and I've co-founded a Job Club.

I pause to consider what I've left out and Kate suddenly realises she's been listening so attentively, she hasn't entered a single detail on the ghastly system. (The system is like a baby bird, it needs constant feeding). So, a quick re-cap of the highlights and we're done. Just one tiny thing more. My next (additional) appointment is supposed to be on the coming Monday, which is a Bank Holiday. So I ask Kate if she will make a date for the Tuesday instead? "Forget it", she says, "it's a Bank Holiday". I know, but won't the DWP Monster realise I have 'missed' a week and cut me off at the pass?

"Forget it", she repeats. "Have a day off. On me".