D-Day

Well D-Day - as in the day I've been dreading - is upon me.

Tomorrow first thing is my first WFI with my personal advisor who I only know by her first name supplied in my letter from the Job Center Plus.

I didn't manage to get my hair washed today as my mum's back was too painful and stiff to bend over.

If my hair looks too greasy I will resort to my emergency can of dry shampoo so I don't go out with greasy or dead and dull hair.

I sincerely hope that the advisor I've been given doesn't turn out to be one of those Stalin wannabes that I've heard about who ignore all evidence of illness or disability and steamroller you (and in some cases threaten or intimidate) those they are supposed to be simply providing options for their possible future possibilities into any scheme like workfare regardless of their medical and health at the time.

In some ways I just want this over and in others I don't want it to ever come around.

Quite frankly I'm a complete nervous wreck at the moment and expecting the worse starting by being forced to sit listening to a total stranger dictate my future while sitting in a uncomfortable plastic chair for an hour.