I’ve long had the theory that the Social Security Agency time their letters to arrive on a Saturday- that way they can’t be contacted by phone. Irate, anxious, stressed recipients will have calmed down a bit by Monday morning.
I’ve had many Saturday letters: a review of this benefit; time to reapply for that benefit; no, you’re really fit for work; yes you are, yes you are, yes you are; we don’t pay any attention to what your doctor says; oh all right, you can have a tribunal; um, ok then, you’re not fit to work; time to review your benefit …
This weekend I got an Annoying Saturday Letter about Herself. How could that possibly be? She died; they know that; they have nothing to do with dead people.
Unless, of course, they overpay the tuppence ha’penny that is the state pension, and they want it back.
Yes, the world is in economic crisis, there are famines and wars and overcrowded prisons and crumbling hospitals, public services are being cut to the bone, but it could all be resolved if only the recently bereaved would hurry up and pay back that 60 odd pounds of state money that they’re holding on to. It doesn’t belong to them, you know.