Going Postal

Everything is slowly falling into place. The estate agent has been sending me letters every day for the past three days, asking for various deeper and deeper invasions of privacy. Who knows why they need to know what the occupation of the person who witnessed my signature is. Are they going to reject the witness because they are unemployed? Are only the professional classes trusted enough to witness Important Documents? If so, why?

Then there is the fact that they phoned my dad up at work, for he is going to have to be my guarantor (much to my chagrin about having to ask my parents for support when it’s totally unnecessary) and asked if they could speak to the HR department. My dad suspects that, unless it’s for a reference for another job, the HR department will simply tell them they can’t provide any information for data protection purposes. Which is good. I’m probably just being paranoid, but they seem to have been very particular about me ever since I objected so much to all the info they were after, constantly asking why it was relevant…

Oh well. In other good news, Mr/Mrs Postman also delivered me a letter from the Inland Revenue. At last I have had a response to my letter to them sent two months ago, and I could, finally, be in the process of getting back the hundreds of pounds they owe me. This will be very important in relieving the pressures of expense that a £950 deposit plus a month’s rent up front is going to cost me. It is ludicrous though, because when I came back from University back in May, I had hoped I would finally get my tax back within the next few weeks. Here I am now, nearly going away again, and still tax-refund-less.

But there was one other snag. In an unusual twist, reminiscent of the days when you could leave your front door unlocked and when women stayed at home all day to do women’s things and talk about the price of fish, my local post office closes half day on a Wednesday. This is not exactly a rural area. In fact, it is a highly populated bit of outer-city suburbia. There is no real excuse for closing early on a Wednesday now.

So I went round the post office – forgetting the aforementioned fact – to post my Important Letters To Get My Money Back From The Government, and noticed that the shutter was down. There are no other post offices for miles.

Another delay. And now this morning, it is raining, so I still haven’t gone out to post them.

Anger levels are high…

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