Weekend end

“Somebody say BOOM, yo.”

It’s twenty past ten on a Monday.

The party boats are still going past my window, stretching this weekend into a hell of noise and the memory of sweat.

I only left the house today in order to purchase vittels. Then I worked out my turnover for the tax return for the year just gone by. It was woeful. Then I tried to log into government gateway to apply for SEISS. To authenticate me they emailed me a code. I inputted the code. Then I put in all my numbers. They made me look for another code in my old emails. I found it. I put it all in. I felt triumphant. Then they asked me for my memorable word…

I set up my government gateway over a decade ago. I was likely in a hurry and my time was limited. They asked me to choose a memorable word, with no clue attached to it whatsoever. Just a memorable word. Not “First pet name” or “mother’s maiden name”. I reckon I probably put a word along the lines of “unnecessary” or “bullshit” or “pointless” but many years later I have no recollection of how exactly I phrased the sentiment.

This memorable word thing is a little better than it was the last time I tried when it asked me for the exact day that I first registered as self-employed, which there is literally no way on God’s green earth that I would ever remember.

It’s fucking annoying. I’ll be up and phoning them tomorrow at 8am, joining the millions who have come off the party boat and through the sniffles they’ll be trying to do the same thing.

How will they identify me over the phone? Who knows. Maybe they won’t be able to. Maybe I’ll have to send a photo of my birthmarks. It’s all ridiculous and I hate it.

The vittels I purchased comprised of a simple meaty pie and some carrots. I consumed them almost oblivious while trying to coax that fucking government website into letting me in. Imagine how shit it must be if you’re here because your home has exploded and you don’t speak any English and have no email address you can access and suddenly you’re faced with this atrociously designed 24 factor authentication mess of a government gateway. I’ve got WiFi and twenty years of consistent saved email history and I haven’t been able to get in for years.

I guess it would be awful if somebody could log in and say they were me and start changing things. But asking me for a phrase that was memorable decades ago? That’s not the way to ascertain who I am NOW. Ugh.

And I’ve seen nobody all weekend.

Once I’d given up on the government gateway I had a good few hours trying on some of the costumes I’ve won. There are some doozies.

And so the weekend went.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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