Dear Centrelink,

centrelinkI’m writing to let you know how confused I am regarding our relationship. I know you’re seeing a lot of people right now + while that makes me feel a little bit dirty, I’m okay with that.

Simon* and I spoke about us getting together back in December. To make it ‘official’ he told me to come into your office early January and I’d be able to go from there. When Mona* had no idea who I was when I came in all smiles in January, I put on a brave face. I was understanding. Mona* made it so easier. She set me up and said I could simply fill in this form and it would all be fine. She then hooked me up with Graham*, who would have a meeting with me in ten days and go over my paperwork. 

I told Graham everything. We clicked. He listened intently with one eye on his computer and one on the ceiling, and I understood when he walked away three times during our interview while I was mid-sentence, because we had a connection. Afterwards, he assured me that all the paperwork was all done with. No more forms for me. I could just go online after today. I preferred it that way, feeling closer to you through technology. 

Then the forms started arriving in the post. The forms Graham said I didn’t need to fill out, that wouldn’t come, that were unnecessary. But, maybe this was your way of trying to tell me something?  So I called you.

Russell* told me over the phone that I definitely needed to fill out the forms. Graham had betrayed me. I needed to get online and fill out another claim form a.s.a.p. “Can’t I do the claim in person at the office” I purred down the line. “NO!” Russell berated. “We don’t do that kind of thing anymore. Online claim only. Okay? They don’t even HAVE paper claims forms these days.”

I trudged off to see you in person to hand in the now-very-necessary forms. Jason* was your rebellious side showing through. He beckoned me from the line with a cowboy nod, looked up my file and exclaimed “Well, what’s going on with you, aye?” Confused, I slid the documents over the counter. He handed me back a paper claim form. “But Russell and Graham and Mona told me I had to do it online?” I exclaimed, surprised. “Ridiculous!”, he scoffed, and said it would be much quicker if I sat in the corner and filled the 273 page form in person.

I’ve just arrived home after spending an hour with Jason* and I’m more confused than ever. He said we may not be officially together for five weeks or so. Did Simon, Mona, Graham, and Russell mean nothing? Is Jason the one doing your bidding now? Who do I believe?

Centrelink, we’ve been in a relationship now for two months. I feel like I’m putting more into this than you are. I’m always calling you. I always go to see you in your office. Not once have you called, or even deposited what you said you would into my account. I don’t care about the money, C-Link, baby. Honestly. 

You just need to tell me straight up what I need to do to make you happy. Just make up your effing mind. Please. 



*No names have been changed to protect the incompetent.


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2 Responses to “Dear Centrelink,”

  1. doctor007 Says:

    Haha, oh I’m so sorry for you. Centrelink gets around, I’m afraid, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

    I love the title, it was so Pink goes Dear Mr President.

    Dear Mr Centrelink, let’s pretend that you’re not a bastard….

  2. C Says:

    next one will read “Dear Centrelink, you cheating lying pond scum…” 🙂

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