Mission Impossible

Groundhog Day.

Up the stairs again, this time The Bejewelled One directs me to the Mysterious First Floor. I like it up here. It's a much nicer view and you're away from the proles.

Linda welcomes me and I am brimming with optimistic anticipation. I have all the information about the certified course I am interested in and can't wait to see what they can help me with.

"I really don't know why they've made an appointment for you to see me today. I can't tell you about training, it's not what we do". As an opener, it's not encouraging, but I can't believe Sean can have got it so wrong. Perhaps she doesn't understand? I explain the proposal but she has a definite look about her that brooks no argument. Pushing the info across the desk, I explain that someone I know has had PRINCE2 sponsorship, so surely this is on a par?

With a reluctant sigh, Linda rises to consult God. During her abscence I begin to deflate. Two, consecutive days of total negativity drains even the most boisterous spirit and all of a sudden I've had enough. I feel like the hate-hate relationship I have had with the JC is in its' glorious death throes and I can't wait to be out of its' toxic clutches.

Linda is back and I know it's a No before she even sits down. Perhaps, if I had a letter from this company, stating that this certification was an absolute must, backed up with a guaranteed job at the end.......well, perhaps. But, otherwise, it's a firm No.

She pushes a business card across the table to me. "You could talk to these people", she suggests. It's a ghastly, government-sponsored organisation that helps with CVs, interview techniques etc., and they meet in the local library. No. No. No. Not for the first time I realise that the DWP just doesn't get it.

I take my leave. Prolonging this abortive appointment is pointless, and I find myself outside the JC doors within approximately 7 minutes of entering them.

Thank goodness I got free parking.