This week I sorted out my stuff to become an official OG (Owd Git). I applied weeks ago (I got a letter telling me to). If you haven’t heard within 14 days, it said, call the helpline on this number.
11 days to go: nada. After ringing a train of phone numbers, each telling me I needed to phone another, I
Oh for fuck’s sake, shut up, Cowan, you irritating twat!
Sorry about that but what’s with all the waffle on Radio 3? And now after a short segment of a Beethoven piece (no bleeding chinks, my arse), there’s that bloody boring trailer for CD Review again. Just play some fucking music, for pity’s sake (shut up for fuck’s, play music for pity’s, them’s the rules). I can’t write words, when you is talking bollocks all the time. I might as well be listening to the sea of ad-interrupted pap on Classic fm!
Where was I? Oh yeah …
xxxxxxxxx finally got through to a very helpful bloke in Swansea. Apparently I had filled in the date my marriage ended (well, I guessed at it, after a fruitless search for decrees absolute), but not the actual date of the marriage (I could have sworn i had). Not that anyone was going to ring me and ask for it, I had to go into panic mode and spend half a day on the phone.
What struck me is that I could tell him the date right off the top of my head, 40 years after I, like all traditionally raised husbands, forgot our first anniversary.
Well, my pension starts coming in on my next birthday, when I will receive the princely sum of twenty-seven pounds and thirty-eight pence. That’s one day’s worth. I wait four weeks for the next payment which should be 28 times that.
So the rest of the day was spent applying for housing benefit. How long that will take, I have no idea. Apparently I’m entitled to reduction in Council Tax and all but £90 of my rent. So a more frugal life beckons, the savings having run out.
No matter, my Chinese chum assures me I will be famous, and thus rich, when she finishes translating Little Mr Poonlop into Mandarin. I’d better get on learning the lingo for the book signing tour.
And buying a canvas to do a painting of her on the road to Assisi …And I found time after all the bureaucracy shit to reboot the Elsies project at Lucidity Ltd’s concepts pages
So it could be that life will settle down to something it’s never been before … normal.
Or it could be that I’ll be living in a packing case in LiDL’s car park.
I’ll keep you posted …