Party DOWN at the DOL!!

So every summer I get to draw unemployment, which is a pretty sweet deal. As long as you can get a separation notice from your employer saying there's no work for you, you're in, I guess. Since I'm on a year-to-year nine-month contract at the university, it works out. The big annoyance, though, is having to check in with the Department of Labor maybe twice during the summer to show them my Job Search Record, a piece of paper which shows I'm pretending to look for a job. I used to go in, show the record to a DOL worker in a cubicle, and be on my merry way. Starting last summer, though, the place has taken a more hands on approach with the unemployed, requiring mandatory attendance at job search workshops and the like. It's a small price to pay for the cash, I guess. But I find these activities, of course, endlessly tiresome because a) the DOL simply isn't going to have a job I want. They have warehouse work, truck driving, poultry plant, and, last summer, an opening at a day care center. I believe--no, I know--I'd rather flip burgers than take care of other people's brats all day. Oh, I'm sure YOUR kids are great; I'm talking, obviously, about OTHER people's kids! And b) I, for three years, had a job at which I conducted job readiness workshops in a ten-county area for people the government was trying to get off welfare (not that the CLIENTS wanted off welfare; they also went along with the game....oh sure, to be fair, some of them didn't want to be on welfare). Anyway, my workshops covered many topics, even extending to life skills (which covers just about everything). We (I) discussed networking; resumes; cover letters; we did mock interviews; troubleshot potential problems in the workplace with boss, co-workers, customers (for instance, why it's not a good idea to threaten to beat your boss's ass for ANYTHING--customers, ditto); we discussed budgets (ha! irony THERE); child care; and branched out to stress management (more irony!); fitness; nutrition (things to eat besides chips and Twinkies and maybe avoid an early death from diabetes); relationships (I really wasn't equipped to deal with some of the violence of their problems); personal hygiene (deodorant in the workplace is appreciated!); discipline (if your kid wets the bed, rubbing his nose in his piss isn't really very productive--true story--a workshop client gave this as a tip for the other mothers!); sometimes I had guest speakers come in to talk on these topics; sometimes I'd get beauty experts to do makeovers on us all; we took short field trips (like I'd get county extension agents to take us to the grocery store for Smart Shopping, label reading, etc); BUT I always always, no matter what the length of the workshop, made sure to cover the Dress for Success module. Too many of the workshop participants didn't know any better than to show up at an interview in Daisy Dukes and a halter top with half a tit showing, and flipflops. Snapping gum. So I insisted that on one day they show up to class dressed as they would for a job interview, just to make sure we were on the same page.

So it is with a heavy heart that I must report to you that the woman doing the "workshop" yesterday, who went by the culture-clashing moniker of Carmina Xiong, was sporting an outfit that would have fit right in with some of the absurd pictures I'd show in the workshops of people wearing clothing you wouldn't wear to work in a gazillion years. Stuff we laughed at.

While waiting to speak with Carmina Xiong, I labored under the pretense of having a text message come in so that I could snap a photo. I truly wish that I could have had her pose and show you the entire effect, but I think you get the idea of the white cotton skirt, THICK black tights, and gold lame' pumps.

This DOL workshop kicked off the festivities with a guy from Athens Technical College talking to us about getting our GED if we didn't already have it. He stressed the importance of a high school diploma in today's competitive job market. He'd provided a hand-out that told about some of the programs at Athens Tech (where I taught for ten years), and went over that in METICULOUS detail. I absolutely despise being in a situation in which I'm not free to do what I want (namely, leave, but barring that, maybe check email via phone or something---We'd been told to turn all cells off, which I did not do, just muted. Now don't get me wrong. I think carrying on in this manner is beyond rude when someone else is talking, especially when that someone else is me. But at least give an opt-out choice on the GED talk for people with high school diplomas and bachelor's, master's, and/or doctoral degrees.

To keep my head from blowing straight off and spinning up through the roof (that's how bored I was), I scanned the hand-out from Mr. Enthusiasm(front and back) for errors: found a comma splice, an ill-advisedly large number of capitalization errors (it's almost as if some people are adhering to an imagined crazy rule that says you can't write more than 3-4 words in a row without capitalizing something). Also: I located a comma omission mishap between two independent clauses, and a slew of colon fender-benders.

I marked all these and left the sheet in the seat beside me.

Then Tech Guy read out some of the programs offered at our local tech school. For example, you can be a medical transcriptionist; vet tech; medical assistant; cosmetologost; auto collision repairperson, etc. You get the idea. My point here is this: in our midst was was one woman who'd already gone to Athens Tech and had a couple of degrees, or at least certificates. So when he was reading out the programs, she had to pipe up to inform him which ones she had completed and which ones she had just taken a few classes in.

This sort of shit just never ceases to amaze me. People like this, what? Have no filters? Have no clue where they are? Cannot assess situations that might differ, eg you're with really close friends who are fascinated by everything you utter VS!! you are in a room full of strangers, none of whom know you or care about which classes you've had.

I don't know, though. It might be really fun not to give a shit about anything.