Dole scum

Excuse the woe-is-me nature of this post, but there really is something terribly disspiriting about looking for work.

Sending off countless CVs and application forms in the vague hope of receiving just one solitary compliments slip in return; being talked down to and patronised to within an inch of your life in the job centre JobCentre Plus (now I know how it must have felt to be an African nation in the World Cup...); traipsing around temping agencies to hawk your wares, and realising with a wry smile that two of them are situated on Working Street.

Still, I guess I have been able to watch the World Cup almost in its entirety...