So This Week Could Be Going Worse

Aside from continued illness inspired argumentativeness, The Child and I are actually having an ok half term.  This could all change after the doctors’ tomorrow, when we find out if she has eczema, something else, or nothing at all, but I’m actually feeling good right now.  This usually does not bode well, but nothing’s pulling me down tonight.

We had our usual weekend, and then on Monday I had to drag her down to the Jobcentre with me.  Instead of my usual sign on I was booked in for a meeting with the lone parent advisor, and how nice it was to see one of them again.  Aside from the little bits of bad news regarding the back to work incentive things, it was actually all pretty positive.  The only financial downside now to me getting a job that’s less than sixteen hours a week now, is that if my hours don’t increase within a year, after the first year is up I’ll be worse off again.  And I’m aware I’ve explained that badly, but basically as long as I get a job where the increase in hours seems possible, going for a job that’s less than sixteen hours a week isn’t quite as pointless as I’d previously thought.  Yay.  And as for the back to work incentive things, I never really paid much attention to them anyway.  An extra however much a week for the first year of getting a job is not going to make me any more likely to find a job.  I’m looking for a job regardless.  I want a job.  I’ve wanted a job since The Child started school.  I’ve been looking for a job since The Child started school.  I didn’t set out to be in my position.

Actually that’s something I’ve been thinking about again lately.  When I found out I was pregnant, sure I wasn’t exactly over the moon, but things seemed ok with my boyfriend.  We’d been living together for a while, and had been together almost three years.  So I was still at uni, but I was close to finishing, and I’d no career plans sorted.  We agreed together that I’d stay at home with the baby until she started school, after which time I’d look for a job.  And The Child was over a year old when we split up.  And we had very good reasons for splitting up.  Yes, being a single mum on benefits does get me down at times.  But I don’t regret staying at home with my daughter.  I don’t regret leaving The Ex.  All I regret is that there is a general lack of empathy and sympathy out there for women (and men) who find themselves in a situation not too dissimilar to mine.  Yes, there are some complete tosspots who work the system and everything, but they are a minority.  It’s such a shame they screw it all up for the rest of us.  How I love the media.  Oh, and I feel such love for the politicians as well.  Really couldn’t live without any of them.