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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

I got a letter for the Social Welfare today, asking me to get my GP to fill in a form, and asking for my consent to submit myself to a medical examination from one of their doctors. I'm quite happy about this, because that means that at least my claim is finally being progressed - it's nearly three months since I was last paid, and the purse strings are being to give from the tension. Also, I need to start paring down my Amazon Wish-List, because quite soon I'm going to have every item available on my wish list, and very little on my shelves. Owning only 53 DVDs is not enough for me.

Since I got my epidural I've been thinking about going back to work, and have been getting phone calls on an almost daily basis from the recruitment agencies who refuse to listen to the fact that I've been signed off sick. They've been calling since January, and every day I have to explain my position to yet another idiot in the office, who promises to make a note on my file. Now that I've started to hint that I might be returning to work soon, they're getting even more excited, and have ridiculously taken this as a sign that I'll be wanting permanent work. Nothing could be further from my mind.

The added complication of a medical exam means that I can't really start working again in the next couple of weeks, because if I receive a final certificate from my doctor before he has filled in the form and sent it off to them, my claim goes to a whole other department and will probably have to be started again from the beginning.

Which really just means at least one more week off work can be justified by the fact that if I go back, I might not get any benefit at all. Which is daft.

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