More job rage coming up.

So. After a couple of weeks of every fucker in Ireland refusing to give me a job, I decided to suck it up and go enquire about my unemployment stamps. After all, I have been paying taxes for 3 and a half years, I may as well claim them back when I need them. I don't like the idea, but hey. Better than being poor and never seeing my fiance.

I arrived down at the office, and dicked around for half an hour waiting for Mrs Social Welfare to finish her tea and get the fuck back to her information window. Meanwhile, Eva and Shania, two extremely loud three year olds, raced around my feet screaming and giggling and basically being annoying kids. While their mothers kept trying to slyly skip each other in the queue.

Eventually, just when I thought I was going to crack - grab Shania (or was it Eva?) by her ginger ponytail and toss her across the room - Mrs Welfare called me to the window. I sat down and told her the sad story of how I was laid off two weeks ago and now I need to claim back my stamps because I can't find a job at the mo. She scrunched up her (ugly) little face and started typing all this shit into the system. "Are you living at home with your parents?"
"My mother, yes."
Scrunchy face, which I surmised was a bad thing. "I see. And do you contribute to the household?"
"Not since I've been unemployed, but before that, yes."
More scrunchy face. "But not in the last few weeks."
"No, my mother doesn't ask me to pay money I'm not earning."
More scrunchy. "I see. And does she work?"
"She's self employed."
Scrunch, scrunch. "Oh dear, I see... And do you have money in your bank account currently?"
I just stared at her for ages before I finally said, "Yes, of course I have some money. I was only laid off two weeks ago, I still have a couple of paychecks in there."
More scrunchy-facing, and a dirty look like I'm trying it on with her. "You know you'll be means tested for benefit? You don't just get handed a whole pile of money."
"Um... yeah, I'm aware."
Scrunchy scrunchy. "Well anyway, you don't qualify for unemployment stamps."
"Que?"
"You haven't been working long enough."
"I've been working three and a half years."
Scrunchy scrunchy. "Well last summer there's a few weeks' gap between your old job and your new one. You weren't paying then, so you've only been paying taxes since July in our book."
"I went on vacation. Vacation disqualifies me?"
"Not working disqualifies you."
"I wasn't working because I was on vacation, and my previous part time job didn't pay vacation."
"Well...." more scrunchy facing. "That's too bad. You worked the full year in 2007, but you only earned 7000 because it was part time and you were in college."
"So what you're telling me is that a full time student with a job is more entitled to unemployment than a graduate who has lost her full time job, and is not in college and has no other income."
"Basically, yes."
"You're a cow."

Okay, I didn't call her a cow. I just took the stupid forms she told me to fill out ("you'll probably qualify for a bit on the dole") and fucked off. But I am ANNOYED. How the FUCK can I work for three years and not qualify for reclaiming taxes that I HAVE BEEN PAYING?! Ridiculous!

Why the fuck does everything in my life have to be extra difficult? It's not like I don't work hard! It's not like I'm not a responsible person! Apparently, that's a bad thing, though. I guess if I'd spent all my paychecks on heroin and never gone travelling with my hard earned savings, I'd be more entitled to a little fucking help from the government I've been diligently paying taxes to.

So. No job. No job offers. No money. No summer trip to see Tony. No fucking unemployment stamps. No chance to get the hell out of this shithole of a country and never look back.

I would actually be disinclined to work here anymore, because the thought of those thieving gypsies taking my taxes every week and then refusing to give them back to me when I need them just pisses me off.