MONDAY: Fortify myself for the week ahead with a half-bottle of the ’05 Pinot Gris Rotenberg.
Cost £62, but if I’d been on the dole for a while I’d have had the £9 spare from the week before. Stick candle in empty bottle and spend rest of day sitting in my bedsit thinking about Samantha Cameron.
Tuesday: Neighbours offer me building site work for undeclared cash. Contact benefits agency to report them and tell neighbours they’re bringing this country to its knees. Use empty Rotenberg bottle to fend them off and barricade myself in my bathroom.
Wednesday: Woke up to see a big dog on pavement. Remained indoors.
Thursday: Get into furious argument with chap at local antique dealers, ‘Cash Converters’, who insists they don’t deal in 19th Century watercolourists. Finally get £10 for the frame. Money stolen by children waiting for me outside.
Friday: Electricity stops working. Investigation shows I have some kind of meter that appears to be empty. Assume this is an annual thing and well outside the scope of my £53 budget. Keep warm by eating a pack of animal nuggets left by previous occupants. May have sobbed a little bit.
Saturday: Neighbours apologise for calling me a ‘jumped-up ballbag’ and offer to pay for an 18-hour holiday to Jamaica if I would ‘run a little errand’ for them. Big Society in action.
Sunday: Final day. Secretly borrow a fiver from old woman who lives downstairs. Use it to buy delicious three course lunch at House of Commons restaurant. That evening the lovely people from ATOS take me to Savoy Grill for dinner.
Should have just done this every day. Would have been a piece of piss.
