Today has
seen fourteen job applications go in, painstakingly typed on this Jurassic
mobile phone, for care work, shop work, factory work, minimum wage work, any
kind of work, because quite simply, this doesn’t work.
For reasons
unbeknownst to me, this month my Housing Benefit was over £100 short. I didn’t
get a letter that I know of, but I can assume that it’s still the fallout from
the cockups made by the various benefit agencies when I briefly went back to
work from March to May. Whatever the reason, it’s easy to work out that £670 of
rent can’t be paid of £438 of Housing Benefit. So I’m a week in arrears, almost
two, as by the time Thursday comes and the next £167.31 is due, there’ll still
be nothing coming in. The Income Support went on keeping me afloat, briefly, as
did the Child Tax Credit. Now I’m not only in arrears, but last night when I
opened my fridge to find some leftover tomato pasta, an onion, and a knob of
stem ginger, I gave the pasta to my boy and went to bed hungry with a pot of
home made ginger tea to ease the stomach pains.
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