A Day at the Department of Labor

I woke up this morning with every intent of raising hell.  After all, this was going to be my third trip to the unemployment office for the same issue.  I'm not gonna wait in your damn lines.  It will not be another three hour sojourn of staring at closed doors hoping the next time someone appears it will be my name beckoned.  Nope, not for this cat, not this time.

'Fill out your SSN and name and bring this back to me.'

Ok, so I punked out as I often do when psyching myself up to be rude and confrontational.  Plus, she was too darn nice especially compared to the first time I dealt with this particular steward of the office of the "No Longer Bountiful".  It's probably a sad sign when you recognize the department of labor staff.

There's the 1960's black elderly lady.  Never smiles.  Rarely uses a voice that can be heard halfway across the room, let alone halfway across a room full of cell convos, children, and 100 unhappy jobless folks.

There's the single, happy to help lady.  She's the one I imagine leads all attempts to round the troops up for happy hour and war stories.  Sh has also had the same outfit on for three of my four visits.

There's the huge hispanic (or maybe samoan) guy that walks around the computer termnals being used by first time filers.  Seriously, this is his job!  Of the four visits I've made encompassing nearly eight hours (and counting), this guy has provided assistance to, like, 10 people.  Really?  Really? I'm sure he has helped more that I haven't seen but as a graduate of the process for which he provides assistance, there just aren't a lot of places where one can go wrong.

But I digress.  I fill my form and throw my previous visits out there.

'Well you picked a good day, we're slow.'

Yippee!  I picked a good day to do what I had already been here twice to do.

For what it's worth, my wait is 15 minutes before happy hour girl cries my name, incorrectly.  She appears truly alarmed at my lack of received funds.  My spirits rise as I sense that maybe something will get done this time.  My first visit for no benefits received, I waited three hours, and at 4:30 pm 1960's black lady uttered my name.  I went back and after five minutes of her disappearing to make copies, she tells me the folks that would review my claim leave at 4:30 pm.  Bitches!!  My second visit was the asian guy with a minimal grasp of English, which is fine.  Considering that this is Gwinnett County, there are more ethnicities in a single square mile than bare boobs at Mardi Gras.  He is flabbergasted at what has become eight or nine weeks of unemployment insurance futility.  But my hope wanes as seems stuck on my former employer's official name.  Fast forward to today, the happy hour lady is going to help me.  She even has a new outfit on which has to be a good omen.

'Someone will call your name,' she says after thoughtfully telling me stuff about my claim that I already knew.  Oh Happy hour lady, et tu Happy hour lady?  Et tu?!

<SIDEBAR> Is there anything sadder than the cat trying to be hot at the unemployment office.  Sunglasses de Super Trooper don't make you look any more employed.  Silly perhaps, employed no.  Two places you don't need to try to pick up a mate, the unemployment office and the free clinic....

Finally, about 45 minutes later, the Asian man butchers my name to the point where he resorts to just spelling it.  I walk over to him, ready to go back into his cube and discuss in length my situation.

'You'll get your money tomorrow or Tuesday,' he says quickly.  Not sure why I wouldn't get it on Monday as opposed to Tuesday.

'Are you sure?' I say because well, this is the third time I've been to the place for this.

'Yes, we approved this morning.'  Uh, so why didn't they approve the first two times I strolled through..ah forget it.

UPDATE -- Money is coming in but is 53 bucks short every week.....Damn iT!

The 2009 Job Search

There was a time when if you lost your job, your next step was to go and apply for new jobs.  This is still logical to me.  However, every career resource, counselor, career coach, and 'they' in general now tell you to not spend your day applying for jobs on the internet.  Instead, they say network.

Get out and meet people. Go have coffee or lunch.  Here's the problem with that approach.  First, the networking approach is great if you're the kind of person that loves chitchat, loves to sit and talk, loves to make conversation.  But what if you're not that kind of person.  What if you have conversations with people because you have something very specific to say.  I love my family and friends dearly.  But they will probably tell you I am one of the least likely people they expect to get a just-to-say-hello phone call from.  Those same friends will tell you I'm just as amiable, friendly, and non-introverted as can be in a casual atmosphere.  I'm not comfortable talking to people if I know in the back of my mind I want something from them.

Two, getting out and meeting people costs money.  And well, I'm unemployed.  Going out for coffee and lunch to network isn't something I can readily justify.  Further, I hate the feeling that some of my employed friends feel the need to pay for things if I do meet them out.  I understand that's probably an ego thing that I should quickly get over but it's part of me.  I've spent a good part of my adult life asking for help from no one other than my parents and that I have kept to a very strict minimum, intentionally.  I pride myself on truly being grown and even the task of networking seems a little bit like asking for a hand.   I know it's illogical....

Third, most of the people that I have had the fortune to network with have, well, been unemployed themselves.  And I understand the networking mantra is that every connection counts but unemployed people getting together with other unemployed people is kind of like alcoholics gathering without a moderator.

Part of this post is frustration.  I'm tired of looking for a job.  I'm tired of trying to network.  I'm tired of feeling pretty useless.  Friends and family, do not worry.  This is a vent.  Though I do feel useless, I know I'm not useless and I know my place in this world not only for me but for my family and friends.  Still, a large part of my self esteem was, unbeknownst to me, tied to my being a head of household, to pulling my weight.

Kid 2 vs Kid 1

Kid number two is a beautiful little girl with gastrointenstinal issues.  Maybe Devin had the same 'unable to go but spend every waking moment pushing' syndrome too but I surely don't remember it.

Natalia has much more weight on her, real baby fat.  Devin had bones.  Bones and skin.  Of course Devin was an early arrival who had a lot of turbulence  on the trip so not really comparing apples to oranges here.

She's sleeping three to four hours a stretch so we can only hope that starts to increase.   The first week out of the hospital, after being a model patient, she cried for so long and so hard that we actually called the emergency nurse help line.  As we waited for their call back, Natalia decided to calm down and go to sleep.  Kind of like when you have a car problem and it never happens at the mechanic.

The little princess looks just like her brother, so much so that it's uncanny.