#but a why-nym's-still-not-doing-fannish-things post

[nym-wibbly]

I was just starting to revive my single brain cell at the end of last week - cat finished her antibiotics, vet appointment for next week sorted, appointments all behind me, sleep caught up on - when I got a text message on Friday telling me to call the welfare number because they needed to talk to me about a particular aspect of my claim. Okay, fine, clicky-dial...

Having waited in the muzak/message/muzak/braindeath caller queue for about half an hour the first time, the agent said it was nothing to do with their department and transferred me to the front of the caller queue for the other welfare benefit I'm entitled to. Okay, fine... except it was nothing to do with that office either and, for some reason, they couldn't pass my call back. That is not a thing they do, and they thought it weird that I asked. So I had to start again by phoning the original number. With the muzak/message/braindeath bit all over again. For another half an hour or more because it was the end of Friday and time for everyone on their end to be going home.

The actual conversation, once I eventually got through, took about 10 minutes and was fine, although I had to ask the poor call handler to make allowances for my now melted brain cell because I'd - overall - spent more than an hour listening to the brain melting pointless wait noise, and the questions they needed to ask me were quite involved. Giving wrong answers is actually fraud, so... yeah. Please don't be melting my brain first?

Plus column - I may be entitled to a lot more money than I ever thought I was. Like, a lifechanging amount of backpayment that could get me the disabled adapted bathroom I need to manage without daily care visits and/or let me pay for my own care visits so I don't need to accept the local authority's wasteful red tape strictures. (As a private client I can buy 15 minutes daily, which is about what I need most days; as a council client I have to have a minimum of 30 or I can't have anything! But I can't have an extra 15 minutes once a week to let me have an assisted bath.)

Minus column - I'm back to being bedbound and so brainless I can't read for most of the day. I get about an hour of functional Nym after getting up, into which I have to fit all the adulting that needs doing.

Next week is all about The Cat getting her followup vet visit, then me getting hold of whatever meds we decide on. And then Christmas will be upon us which, at least, will bring some new Doctor Who.

One day I'll get to be a real fangirl again. Fanfic. Meta. Boxsetting. Actual contact with my friends. Meanwhile, I'll peek out from under the bedclothes and occasionally reblog something shiny or cat-related.