Why this is hell, nor am I out of it

Nine thirty on a Saturday morning is for being in bed. It's for reaching groggily for pain killers to numb the hangover before turning over and going back to sleep. If you're a particularly enthusiastic type, it might be for fucking. But what it's emphatically not for is standing in the grim lobby of Woolwich Job Centre Plus. I was greeted by two security guards, and a man with his shirt hanging out who handed me a sheaf of papers and pointed me towards a chair. There I studiously checked over the details that I'd given over the phone (she'd misheard my phone number and apparently not even made an attempt to hear my last work dates). I painstakingly signed and dated every correction and then turned my attention to a form I had to fill in. The first question read, "Do you have any problems with English or Math's that would prevent you getting work?" Yep, "math's". This was a portent of things to come.

When I was finished I was called over to see Julie (not real name obviously, especially not with my memory).
Julie: Hello Miss F. [shuffles papers] Now I see here that you've studied at university.
Our Glamorous Heroine: Well, I...
J: Oh! Sian! I thought you weren't in today!
Sian: I was feeling a bit sick but I thought I may as well come in... Dave, fuck off out of my chair! Did you hear that Darren walked out yesterday?
J: Really?
S: Yeah, he had to be escorted off the premises!
J: [Realises that half of the job centre are looking up from their forms, listening with rapt attention] Sian! That's company business! Don't talk about it in front of customers! Yes Miss F?
OGH: Well, I actually dropped out after two years due to illness.
J: Right, have you got the letter from your university stating that you no longer attend?
OGH: Er, no, the woman on the phone didn't mention having to bring one.
J: Tchuh. They don't make our job any easier for us!

After that little chat I was asked to take a seat again ("No, not that seat Miss F, the completely indistinguishable one directly next to it.") where I waited to see another 'adviser'.
Claire: Right, I just need to ask you a few more questions Miss F... just one minute... Sandra! Sandra!
Sandra: [comes over leaving her own client] Yeah? Oh, right, what you do is you just click yes or no for each question and then it comes up red or green at the end, then you just delete it and put successful or unsuccessful.
C: So you have to do it even though you just delete it straight after? That's stupid! [sticks tongue under bottom lip and gurns making an "uuh" noise]
[Enter manager, a bloke about my age who could have done with a shave, from behind a glass partition having noticed the conflab.]
Dale: Everything all right ladies? You're remembering to do the [incomprehensible jargon procedure]?
C: Yeah, yeah.
[Exit manager Dale.]
S: Hahahaha, he asked me if I was doing that earlier and I was like, "Of course I am," but I didn't have a clue what he was on about!

Having finally got through the questions (Claire: Any qualifications? OGH: Yeah, 10 GCSEs, 5 AS levels, 3 A levels Claire: AS levels? Never heard of them! OGH: Just put 3 A levels...) I was informed that yes, I was eligible for JSA (green, successful) and asked if I had any questions.
OGH: Er, yes, I have to bring in proof that I left university due to illness. Where shall I bring it in to?
C: One minute... Dale! Dale! This lady needs to bring in proof that she's left uni because she was ill. Where does she give it in to?
Dale: [comes out from behind his partition again] Er, that would have to be Procedures.
C: But the public can't give stuff to Procedures.
D: Oh, right, yeah, I guess she'd have to give it to New Claims then. Yeah, just come in and go upstairs to New Claims...
C: But she won't be allowed without an appointment
D: Nah, she can just tell reception that she needs to hand some stuff in and it'll be okay.
C: Right, so what you need to do is come in and ask for New Claims
OGH: Oh really?

I have to go in to sign on tomorrow. I haven't filled in my form stating what I've been doing to look for work this week yet. Somehow I don't think "read article in the paper about the phone sex trade" is going to cut it either. Sigh. Wish me luck.