Day 25: An authority in(competence)

A debt collection agency have been sending us threatening letters for a while now, for four months, in fact. We've been calling them week after week, trying to get to the bottom of the problem.

They said that Harrow council had passed the debt on to them. We asked what the debt was? After several weeks, we were told it was due to non-payment of council tax. We checked our receipts and found no gaps in our council tax payments. We asked which payments had been missed and had to wait several more weeks to get an unsatisfactory answer. We had a receipt and a reference number, given by the council, for the payment in question. We asked the agency to contact the council again with the reference number we had provided and had another few weeks wait until it was discovered that we had paid our council tax for the period in question but that it had been paid late which had broken an agreement between the council and ourselves.

We were confused as, by this time, the agency were sending us letters questioning where I had moved to (I'm still at the same address) and threatening to seize my car (neither my wife or I drive) if payment wasn't forthcoming. A letter also claimed that a bailiff could turn up at any time to seize property equal to the value of the debt. This was very worrying as the actual amount we owed was growing due to various charges we had incurred. What?

Enough was enough. Time to take the bull by the horns. We made an appointment to speak to an advisor at the council, armed with every piece of paperwork we could find regarding our council tax payments and fired a shot across their boughs that halted them in their tracks. We could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that we had made a payment for the period in question and we could prove that the money had left our bank account and been paid into the council's bank account on the date we had always claimed it had. To top that, it turns out that, once the council had checked it's records (for the umpteenth time), we had actually overpaid our council tax!

Now all we need is for the council to effectively contact the debt collection agency and stop them from harassing us regarding this nonexistent debt. Considering my previous experience with Harrow council, I won't be holding my breath.

Day 23: Now I'm really depressed

It's only just occurred to me that I'll have to wait four months before the start of the next Formula 1 season. Heaven help me.

If your interested, I also write an F1 blog. You can find it here:

http://agent337.wordpress.com/

Day 18: Losing my rag

After speaking to my GP, regarding the side effects of my medication (a zombie-like state), he agreed to reduce my dosage and has referred me to someone who will be able to sit and talk through my problems with me. The meds are helping and the prospect of having someone listen to me gives me hope for the future.
Today, however, I lost my temper for the first time in weeks. Not with anything in my own life but with a complete stranger's neglect of her own child.
I was furious.
She had left her boy, about 6 years of age, outside a shop and out of her line of sight. I had seen a passer-by question the boy about his mothers whereabouts and then proceed inside the shop to question the mother. Having been given a (seemingly) satisfactory answer, the passer-by continued on her way. My wife and I weren't convinced, though, as the mother didn't leave the shop and the boy was still out of her sight. So, we decided to wait a while to ensure the boy's safety. Minutes passed and she still hadn't left the shop.
At this point the boy started to wander off without the mother's knowledge. I stepped forward and told the boy to get back to his mother. I found her inside chatting to (I can only assume) her friend, blissfully unaware that her child had moved off from where she thought he was.
I let rip.
I can't remember the precise words I used but I called into question what would happen if somebody tried to take her child, reaching out and holding her son's shoulder. She wasn't in the least bit fazed by an angry stranger touching her boy. I would have had someone's arm off if they had tried to touch either of my children. I gave her the bollocking she deserved, backed up by my wife, who managed to keep her anger in check much better than I did.
Seething, I had to walk away. You can only do so much and you can't reason with the unreasonable.
The moral of this tale? If you have to ask...

A ramble on crisps

Have you ever noticed how a bag of crisps, once opened, already looks half finished. Annoying, isn't it. Well, I've been thinking about that very thing. Not obsessively, just casually. Anyway, it went like this:

Crisps are pretty fragile things and nobody wants to open a bag of crumbs (or whatever the crisp version is called. Probably crumbs), so the crisp makers need to protect them by filling the bags with air.
In the interests of openness and to avoid disappointment, why couldn't they put their crisps into clear packets?
I'll tell you why. Because nobody would want to buy, what looks like, a half filled bag of crisps. Which is why I believe that crisp makers put them into non-transparent bags. Foil fresh, my aunt fanny.

If you're looking for a satisfying snack, in an honest bag, I suggest you try some pork scratchings. Not Mr Porky, because they are an inferior scratching (and it's not a clear bag), but the real deal. You know, the ones that still have a few hairs on them.

Don't look at me like that. They're bloody gorgeous, they are!

Day 7: On the seventh day...

I've been taking Sertraline for a week now and I'm really not sure it's the best thing for me. My body aches, my head aches, I lack motivation and I feel stoned most of the time. At least when I was smoking weed, I could decide when I'd had enough. This reminds me more of dropping acid; off your face for eight hours and then an exhausting return to reality. Except I don't get to experience normality because I have to take the Sertraline again the next day. Groundhog Day without any of the benefits. I think it's time to have another little chat with my GP. ASAP.

Day 5: Long story short

To sum up my day, it could have been better. I'm too tired to think straight so I'll write more about today, tomorrow.

Day 4: Talk is cheap

One phone call, a pot of tea and a hot chocolate. I wasn't buying but this is what it cost my family and friends to cheer me up. Oh, and their time, which is what really counts.
I'd like to thank each of them, you know who you are, for taking a few moments out of their day and showing me a little compassion and understanding.
But most of all, I want to publicly thank my amazing wife for caring for me during this difficult period in our lives. I always knew she was special and her recent actions have served to reinforce my faith in her. I don't know what I would have done without her.
Thank you, baby. I love you. X

Day 3: No Dramas

Today was a good day. Nothing exciting happened and there were no disasters. A happy medium, I suppose.

Day 2: Job Centre Minus

I've been keeping my problems to myself for far too long, partly (only partly) because I thought I wouldn't be believed. Today I came face to face with my fears. She works at the Job Centre Plus. Having to explain my situation became a humiliating experience I have no wish to repeat.
I've had to talk to a number of people over the past few weeks and most of them have been understanding, even caring. However, when it came to she-who-shall-remain-nameless (for now, at least), I felt as if I were just telling porkies in order to con the benefit system. In fact, upon leaving the JCP offices, I felt almost ashamed of myself and hid myself away at home for the remainder of the day.
This was inversely proportionate (not really but I love that phrase) to my arrival where the security guard asked to see my boarding pass. It wasn't much but it made me smile. Cheers, mate.

Day 1: Sertraline

So... I've been prescribed Sertraline tablets for my depression. Makes me feel a little dopey. Ironic, since I gave up smoking weed a couple of weeks ago.
I wouldn't say I was proud of myself for quitting the green stuff but it was something I had to do. Now I'm popping pills. Go figure.