As the dole queue grows, so does the despondency and depression
Undaunted by the snow or the fact that the soil was frozen solid for weeks, the daffodils are poking their heads up, ready for ostentatious action, if another freeze doesn’t choke the life out of them. In business, too, the signs of green shoots are timidly evident. The statistics carry a little comfort, a tiny promise.
But the dole queues are as long as ever, and may lengthen in the coming year. Some months ago, in this column, I wrote about a highly-educated, highly-qualified woman made redundant by a company in trouble. She is unique. But she’s also typical of a generation of bright sparks who never, ever imagined they would queue for welfare payments, and for whom the experience is a chronic trauma.
