I’m sitting in a green chair, different from last time I was here when I was directed to a black chair, in the waiting area of my local Centrelink branch. Gone are the days of queueing … one thing Covid was good for.
I’m here to explain the ‘flow of my finances’ and although I have nothing to hide, Centrelink’s power and layers of bureaucracy and impenetrable behaviour, I’m as nervous as everyone else sitting here waiting for their appointments. Centrelink of course likes to keep us on our toes, we think.
I have with me plastic folder of proofs in two bunches as my printer/scanner has not recovered from the move yet and refuses to shake hands with the computer. First thing this morning had to beg the village’s admin to print stuff off for me, that CL can keep. The other bunch are the paper copies CL will need to copy.
To top off the day, the good news is that my previous unit, where I broke the lease, has new tenants. Meaning, I don’t need to pay any more rent there.
And the bad news is that my hearing aids have spat the dummy. Switched themselves off. I’ve tried everything I know, to get a sign of life, but no go. All verbal communication is like talking and listening through a wad of cotton wool.
I’m outside now, finishing this off. It’s raining. I didn’t bring an umbrella, or raincoat. Probably better wait for my ride.
Guess how high this tree is …
Rita de Heer 