What's the Plan, Stan?

"Always have a plan, even for the little things.  Don't just go out and say you are going out for a Coke.  Decide ahead of time - if they don't have a Coke, then have a Pepsi.  If no Pepsi, then a Fanta.  Don't ever get caught by surprise, learn to always think ahead, be prepared."  Carlos Fonseca.  

Sandinista: Carlos Fonseca and the Nicaraguan Revolution; Matilde Zimmerman

I have always been one to have a plan and goals.  I remember my earliest ones starting in high school. Get the hell out of there.  So I doubled up on classes and graduated a year and a half early.  It then moved into getting a job that pays at least $8 an hour (in the early '90's that was a decent pay and gas was still under $1 a gallon).  Then my goal morphed into getting a promotion.  Did it.  I floundered a bit because I did somethings backwards and got married and had a baby.  Got divorced at 20 so I moved to Idaho to begin again.  Started the job thing all over.  My goal changed from getting a promotion (although I did get raises) to going to college.  After three (3) years of working, I was finally in a place where I could work part-time and go to school full-time.  While I was in school my goals were educationally attainable.  Get a 4.0.  Done.  Dean's List.  Done.  Scholarships.  Done.  Go to Oxford.  Done.  

After college, I just had my part-time job become a full-time job.  I then advanced a few times from that position.  I got bored with Idaho.  I changed my goal to moving and finding a job at the same time.  Done.  Then it was the regular milestones of monotony:  make more money.  Government jobs are good like that.  My goals meshed with moving up so I became a certified floodplain manager; certified residential building inspector; and finally a certified planner.  I think I was also certifiably stupid because even with all the credentials I didn't foresee the economic downtown in construction.  I wasn't prepared to lose my job.  Metaphorically speaking it was as much of a shock as taking your dog for a walk and a car jumps the curb and runs over your dog - killing it in front of you while the leash is still in your hand.  (That is a real scenario too.  My friend, Bad Luck Amanda, had it happen to her).

Had I prepared, I would have had a plan in place rather than flailing around and collecting a pitiful amount of compensation in the form of unemployment benefits.  I would have been able to walk out of the planning department, breathed a sigh of relief and jumped into my next adventure.  I never would have ended up at the assisted living facility wiping asses for almost a year.  I wouldn't have ended up in the comfortable position I am in now and thoroughly enjoy, even though it does nothing to promote my job interests resume-wise.  

I am so frustrated with it all right now.  I could wish for a break that lets me use my strengths (e.g., typing, writing, customer service, analytic thinking and research) or I could actually do something about it.  And that's what I'm going to do, dammit.  

Right now I have a part-time position on the horizon. It is back in the planning field.  I can work it around my existing job.  It would allow me to use my brain again and I would be continually learning.  Honestly, that is what I miss the most about my former line of work.  I was learning every day.  I had to research trends and apply them to a local community level.  I had to memorize them so I didn't look like a bumbling idiot answering questions on the public access channel that replayed the videos of the city council meetings.  It was as if I was still in school.  

I am also applying for a part-time position as a research assistant.  It won't require ever meeting my boss.  It would involve researching material for that person to write a book and communicating online.  And typing, loads of it.  Transcription.  Tons of it.  F-U-N!  Plus, it would be something that would allow me to feel like I am contributing something by no longer being idle and just preparing paperwork.  If wishes were fishes, the sea would be full.  Keep your fingers crossed for me.

*Note:  I am afraid I have lost my sense of humor.  I still love to smile but not much is funny.  I am beginning to think it is the winter.  Maybe I have S.A.D. or maybe I am bored from not thinking.  Either way it needs to stop.  I will have to figure it out.  Lately my only source of enjoyment has been pinterest and trying out new hairstyles including fish-bone braids and no heat curls.  For Christ's Sake!  Somethings gotta give*

Old MacDonald

Week god knows what of unemployment.  No end in sight. Frustration lurks at times.  Pessimism pops its ugly head then optimism reminds me that I am unemployed in the summer.  I drown my sorrow in sunshine therapy while wearing my favorite sun hat, hair in pig tails and my cut-off dickies overalls (I'm a country bumpkin like that) and start diggin' in the dirt.  I borrowed a rototiller to put in a REAL garden this summer.  Not just the usual plants in pots like at my other house.  Tomatoes galore.  Heirlooms and hybrids.  Hopefully none are those genetically modified zombies.....


Raccoons have taken over my yard.  I am figuring out ways to rid the property of 8, yes 8, annoying raccoons.  While the little ones look cute, they want to eat my children and I don't like that.  My husband said I should sell them (the raccoons, not my children).  I am going to make that my job in the next few days by posting an ad on Craigslist.  There is no season on raccoons in Montana, therefore, I shall post that raccoons are for sale, $50 a pop, u-trap--  then I shall be a game guide and add that to my resume.


Still house-keeping part time.  Getting used to sweating under my boobs and not being able to change my shirt since I am working that hard outside the home.  That is soooooo sick.  Never, ever thought I would have a job that made me sweat under my boobs.  I have to wear a special cleaning bra.  I can't believe that I admitted that.  Will probably erase that part of the post....

I AM A ROBOT....

Lately I feel like a robot.  Honestly, I find myself speaking all mono-syllabic and moving hurky-jerky style.  I feel as if I lost the up in my giddy-up and I am locked in the ho-hum hum-drum of unemployment.  This totally sucks!  Five months and counting.  I have created a routine and I am rather sure I have mentioned my routine in earlier posts but I am too lazy to re-read it looking for it to link to it.  Robots don't do things like that.  They only do what is in their routines and what they are programmed to do.  I am programmed to get up, read the paper, look for jobs, apply for jobs, clean the house, do laundry, go to work with my husband, make pizzas, deliver the pizzas, come home, look at Facebook, fold the laundry I put in the dryer before the leaving the house, empty the dishwasher, watch a rerun of  "Cold Case" and fall asleep.  Then repeat.  


I wish someone would push reboot or reprogram me to do something different.  Last week I did do other things but even those other things were work like mowing the lawn, weeding the flower bed, raking, waxing the floor and unpacking those boxes of weird shit I can't figure out where it goes but I know I have to keep it.  Aaargh.  I want to enjoy summer but summer enjoyment apparently equals money which one earns by working outside the home which is what I don't do and in my job with my husband--it is unpaid so the business doesn't have to pay someone else, so what fun is that?  


I think I may have a nervous breakdown and start beeping like Silas does when he is nervous.  For example:  First day of school,  "Hi.  I am your new teacher.  What is your name?"  "Beep." *Me* "His name is Silas."  "Oh, welcome Silas.  Let us find your desk.  You are sitting next to Libby.  Do you know Libby?"  *Him* "Beep."  "Well, you must be a little nervous.  That is ok.  Second grade is going to be fun.  What is your favorite sport?"  *Him* "Beep."  I finally left him at his desk even though he didn't stop beeping.  He always stops eventually.


Robots get stuck in routines because that is what they are made to do.  Not me.  If I am stuck in a routine I want compensated for it.  Here are somethings I would like to be paid for:  working and working.  I am good at working.  Mother f***er.  Beep.  Does not compute.  Does not compute.  Beep. Beep. Beep.

Just Whistle While You Work

Looking for a job is like waiting for my floor to dry after using Orange-glo. I enjoy the after effects of Orange-glo--the shininess of the floor reflecting the sunlight from the windows and the pleasant fake orange smell that lingers for a day or so. It is the waiting for it to be done part that drives me crazy. Inevitably I find myself in some desperate need to re-enter the kitchen early to retrieve something that I forget. If I give in, it is all for not and I must redo the floor within a few days. Blah! If I just sit and wait and let it cure then I can enjoy my handwork.


When I get antsy to apply for a job that pops up and hastily prepare my letter of application and materials, I can include some stupid mistake that could have been prevented if I would have just let it follow the usual course and took my time. That typo or omission is like the footprint I leave in the not-yet-dry-still-tacky orange-glo: it is there for all to see. Not only do I have to redo the floor but the errors in applications drag this waiting process onwards.


I have thought about hiring a maid since housework sucks. I can afford one right after I can afford a resume service to market my resume which will land me a new job. Until then, a little bit of elbow grease, plenty of orange-glo and a lot of waiting is the way to go.

Striking Gold

Wowsers.  I struck it rich on Craigslist today.  After a very long dry spell of any amusing job postings, I found two this morning-- ripe and ready for the picking.  La-di-da!

First up is a continuation of our old friend, Edwina, and her property preservation request.  I have no doubt that this has been posted by the same bottom feeders willing to pay a whopping $7.50 for a site visit!  (Gas is $2.89 a gallon right now, barely covers gas.  Idiots.....)  Funniest part is how they ended their posting:  "If you are insured, and honest, we should talk," as opposed to "If you don't have your own worker's comp policy and are a liar..."  Der....  That "we should talk" part should be a red flag that this is not the most genuine posting.  Maybe they should have ended it with "Lets do lunch, dahhhhling," in order to have a higher response rate since only a newb job hunter would respond to this one and, hey, free lunch!

Second idiot posting of the day comes to us from Sarah and Kent who feel that they have discovered the key to success and happiness and therefore must advertise it on Craigslist instead of late night infomercials.  They begin their post with an extremely annoying headline:  "Do you desire a change?"  Answer:  "No, I just look for jobs because I enjoy it."  "No, I just peruse job postings as a way of making myself feel better since I already have a job and want to laugh at the lack of good jobs available."  Why would they include that rhetorical question as their lead-in!?!?!?!  Of course I want change!!!!! Why would I be reading wanted ads online if I wanted to stay all caught up in the usual rigmarole of being unemployed.   For gods sakes alive!  This just really annoyed me but not as much as when I visited the website.  The website was so bad and I became so frustrated by the ambiguous phrases hinting towards financial freedom that I couldn't even post a screen shot here.  It made me so disgusted that I vurped.  I then took some Tums and only posted a screen shot of the ad.  Aaargh!!!!!!!!!

I am not sure if it is the weather, the moon cycle, my female cycle or the fact that I am entering into my 5th (yep, that is right) 5th f'in month of unemployment that is making me sound more like Maxine in those grouchy cartoons than sounding like myself (see dumb cartoon below).  I am also getting so distraught with my lack of leads that becoming an alcoholic or collecting disability pay for doing nothing is becoming more appealing by the minute.  If you are an alcoholic there are recovery services available for you and they will help you find a job if you go into "recovery."  If you are disabled, you can either get free schooling to be retrained or just collect money each month from your mailbox job.  You don't really have to be disabled in the usual manner of loosing body parts either.  You can just have a mental illness.  Mine is unemployment.  It is driving me crazy.  Grrrrr again.

Flooding Blues

It is pouring here.  The rain only stops intermittently for the last 10 days or so.  Today it is nonstop in downpours.  It makes me sad--not sad because it is raining but sad because it could cause flooding and I am no longer the floodplain administrator over anything more the property where I live.  This is the time of year that CFM's like me actually prepare for.  I don't want to say we hope for them but we do spend hours and hours preparing for action in times of flooding and yet there is nothing for me to do.  Blah!  I wish it was sunny instead and then I wouldn't mind being unemployed as much--although watching out my front window at the cars hydroplaning as they race by is a good way to keep my mind of it.  I just hope no one jumps the curb and hits my parked cars.

Gottcha Where I Wantcha....

On Friday, while working at my condo-stripping job I was reminded of a series of horribly stupid, long-winded jokes that we used to tell as children.  Maybe you remember them.  The jokes all center around people staying in a hotel and checking out early based on scary voices they hear chanting mantras such as "Gottcha Where I Wantcha, Now I'm Gonna Eatcha," or "When the log rolls over we will die, we will die."  Usually a brave person tracks down the source which ends up to be an old women in a closet holding a bloody booger on her finger or a bunch of talking flies sitting on a turd that was left in the toilet.  Not the best jokes but they were funny to a 7 year old.  The funniest part is why my temporary job on Fridays cleaning hotel rooms would remind me of fodder that is embedded in my mind from almost 30 years ago.  Any guesses as to why??  Honestly, the truth would make you barf.....No pictures associated with this post.  I am still too busy trying not to vomit little bits in my mouth in order to draw what I have witnessed.


Note to Self:  While staying at hotels or resort, be sure to bring ample kleenex and not to use the bed sheets as tissue paper especially while suffering from bloody sinus pressure.  *Barf*  Don't get me started on the toilets again....  

Jedi Knight or Knight of the Sith?

Every once in a while you come to a fork in the road and you must choose the path you will take: the high road, the low road, the one less traveled, blah, blah, blah....I arrived at that fork today and I am still not sure which way I will go.  If anyone pulls up behind me, please just honk and I will pull over to the side so you can go around me.

I went out to lunch with some friends.  While we were leaving I saw an acquaintance who works in the real estate business.  We chit-chatted for a moment about my lack of gainful unemployment and my side jobs as a pizza delivery driver and stripper (aka housekeeper).  She began to quiz me in my computer application skills and experience with office skills, accounting, etc.  She then said they were possibly going to hire an assistant for her and I should bring by a resume.  Now this woman is super nice, super smart and actually super cool.  Not such a bad gig actually.  The quandary revolves around the profession of  real estate.    

In this world there are two types of people:  Planners (me and my kind) and Real Estate Agents (them).  Planners and real estate agents interact for a handful of reasons including arguing about allowed land uses and the impact of the zoning on the value; arguing about building codes and the impacts on the value; and discussing the specifics of planning/zoning/building law which apply to properties they are trying to sell and make a butt-load of money on for commission without typically doing any of the footwork or research (that is what planners do).   

My planning friends and I refer to the real estate industry as "The Dark Side."  I believe it may be a planning-wide joke as well because I have heard it at conferences too.  They are dark--we are light (or so I thought).  Now that the planning world has been reduced to nothing by the failing real estate market (much like the planet Alderaan was destroyed by the Death Star) I must decide which force is stronger inside of me:  the planning side that is unemployed or the side that would really like a job to earn some money.  I wish I had Yoda nearby to help point me in the right direction.  

PS.  I know that Star Wars did not involve any zombies chanting something from the movie "Freaks" but I threw it in anyway.....

In Which I Cry in my Car

Soooo, there was this really appealing job advertised.  It was with a company that manufactures mobile command units for emergencies.  They integrate GIS and GPS.  Perfect match for moi.  Here is when I mention my degree is in Cartography (map making) with my emphasis in GIS and plenty of GPS and remote sensing crap involved while I was in college.  As Ace Venture would say this job would fit me "like a glove."

This employer required Proveit! tests from Job Service. If you are not familiar with Proveit! tests they are tests that were most likely created by the devil and are typically utilized by companies who beat their employees or expect them to perform at a high level of efficiency with little compensation (same thing in my book).  Proveit! tests do not allow you to go back and change an answer.  You can not review anything.  If the little pop-up window comes up unexpectedly in the middle of clicking something else and you click the next question button, you are screwed.  You just answered a question and got it wrong.  These tests suck.  Bad.  You aren't allowed to repeat them.  Even the No Child Left Behind Act allows schools to retest where there were obvious errors.  That is a Bush-era mandate.  Even that administration saw the value of retesting....  Rant Finished****

There were tests for business English (in which I did not score so well...hmmmm), grammar, etiquette, ethics, Word, Excel, Outlook and typing.  They were obviously serious about who they hired as the only thing the company didn't require was a criminal background test, fingerprints, credit report, medical history, a copy of the book of poetry I wrote for the 1987 Young Authors Conference and my report on France that I wrote in the 4th grade.  Assholes.... 

Day 1: I go in and take two hours of tests and have to leave because I have an appointment.  Day 2:  I go in again and take another hour of tests and then in the middle of it....the power goes out.  Twenty minutes later the computers are up and running again but it messed up the test I was on.  As mentioned previously, Proveit! tests don't allow you to repeat or go back to questions so basically it screwed me on that test.  Oh well...Anyway, I finish the round of testing finally (another hour more) and go up to the help desk to retrieve my results and put in the formal application (as I was awaiting the required tests).  I have 4 hours vested into this job and I don't even know how much it pays...Out of the blue, a woman says to the guy that is helping me, "They closed that job early.  It was filled yesterday."  WTF!!!!!!!!!!  He was like "????" and I was like "????!!!!????!!!!!"  He says "I am so sorry. That job was posted to be open until June 6th."  "Yes," I reply "that is what I thought too. " *sobbing on the inside*

Side note:  The man was nice.  He praised my test results.  He said my typing was blazing fast.  I did 70 words a minute with 0 errors for 3 minutes.  Woot!  Woot!  I guess I can type.  :)  

Regressing a bit, after the initial let down I retrieved the phone number of the company who hired someone even though it said the job was still open.  I then went to my car and I called the company and informed them that the job was still listed as open and I had spent 4 hours taking the tests and they needed to fix it so it didn't happen to other people.  Honestly, the woman I spoke with was an unsympathetic beeeaaatch.  Not nice.  Not caring.  Probably because she has a job and doesn't know what it to be fricking desperate for a job.  I hope she gets laid off someday and learns what it feels like.  Maybe then she can be a bit nicer to the general public and at least pretend to care when she speaks to people via telephone.  After all of this was over that is when I shed a few tears out of frustration--I suppose desperation too, as some days I feel like I shall never ever find a real job again.  That is the central idea I refer to where I made an A.A. Milne-type reference in my grammatic pattern and entitled this "In Which I Cry in my Car."  

After a minute or two, I wiped my eyes, smiled at myself in the rear view mirror and went to Shopko to use a gift card I had been saving for some retail therapy.  It helped.  I felt much better and now I have two adorable black wrought iron lamps with micro-suede shades flanking the nightstands on either side of my bed. 

Follow-up:  The day after the incident in which I write about, I received a call from an employee at Workforce who had heard about what had transpired.  She apologized profusely for how it had occurred.  She also said that she had contacted the company with the job posting and read them the riot act as well about how it had happened.  She said it should not happen again.  There was one other person who also completed the tests the same day and suffered through the same hell.  *To whomever you are, we are united.  I feel your pain.  Good luck in your job search*  The good news is that whenever the offending company posts job openings Workforce will be overseeing them and will track it better so this will not happen again.  Hot damn!  Also, this lady said I should submit my materials anyway as I had completed all the requirements and they may have openings again in the next 6 months.  Blah.

Stripping

In all my years I never once thought that I would ever utter the words "I have been working part-time as a stripper."  To clarify the aforementioned statement one should realize that by stripper I do not mean I have been baring my naked body while dancing on-stage to Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" and performing acrobatic stunts while attached to a stripper pole.  I am referring to stripper in the form of the action verb for a job which entails removing the sheets and towels from resort- or hotel rooms in order to prepare the room for the housekeeper to clean.  It is a good stripper--not a bad stripper.  

Unlike the other type of stripping where you are paid to remove your clothes, I am paid to remove toiletries, linen and foods left in the refrigerator--most likely from Canadians as they seem to be the only tourists still visiting this town with money.  I do not receive tips like the other kind of stripper either.  The tips that were left in the rooms go to the housekeepers who following my stripping the room of the nasties and unmentionables that guests leave behind.  I also get to restock the rooms with linens and towels to replace the ones that were used and change out toilet paper, paper towels, soaps, candles, dish washing tablets and other assorted niceties that one would expect in a fully furnished condominium unit that is rented weekly.

Luckily, I have not been stationed in the laundry room as I had expected.  That is good because I do not fold symmetrically very well.  In fact, I can't even draw a decently round circle (it usually looks more lopsided like almost an oval or a badly shaped cookie).   Assigning me as a stripper was a much more logical approach.  My initial feedback after my stint as a stripper on Fridays is that I am the best stripper they have ever trained.  I asked questions that no one had ever asked before and it made the head stripper pleased as I could understand the logic of why things were performed in a particular manner and therefore wouldn't make mistakes like other strippers.  I am still unsure of what mistakes others would make besides not being able to count.  It is a rather basic process to determine if you need flat and fitted sheets for twin and queen beds and how many replacement towels would be needed to restock a room.  There is even an inventory sheet that shows how many of each item are required to be in a room.  (Example:  A room requires 6 striped pool towels.  I count the towels that are still folded in closet.  There are 4 so I go to the supply van and retrieve 2 more towels to bring that number back to 6.  See.  Easy as pie.)  I suppose the compliment was also related to the foresight that we were low on pillow cases so I restocked the supply vehicle without being asked.  I was particularly pleased with the compliment about being the best stripper that had ever been trained.  I was also told that I learn quickly.  Yeah!  :)  That actually did make me feel happy inside.  The best part is since the head of housekeeping is a friend of ours she told my husband what an excellent stripper I am!  She also said this in front of others who may not have understood the context for which it was intended to be referenced and that made it all the better......

Being a stripper has also taught me that from now on whenever I stay at a hotel, I shall ALWAYS leave my towels and washrags in the bathtub so the housekeeper or stripper doesn't have to walk all over looking for them.  I will remove the sheets and pillow cases from the beds and place those in a pile that is also easily accessible.  Finally, I shall verify that all toilets are flushed and that I haven't left pubic hairs all over the rim of the toilet like I shaved standing over it.  YUCK!!!!  (I am very serious about that last sentence.  There were 3 units where the toilet rim had more hair than a 20 year old man.  Frickin' disgusting.  Who would do that?  What is wrong with them anyway and is genital hair loss really an actual reality or are these sickos actually shaving their junk over the toilet?)

Shoulda been a Cowgirl

Yee-haw Buckaroo.  Ain't much goin' on in the job market here.  Ain't much of nothin' nowhere it seems.  Only promisin' jobs are for a phlebotomist (works with blood - yuck), attorney (which I ain't), pediatrician (which I ain't for sure and won't never be since I hate blood and don't really like sick lil' ones), hotel workers (I am only doin' that as a fill-in--don't wanna do it full-time) and line cooks (not into that neither).  It's enough to git a girls saddle bags in a bunch.


Although, there was one job I saw posted at Job Service no less.  I ain't lying neither.  It was for a range rider.   This is Montana ya know.   No shit.  Someone to watch over the cows on the open range.  $1,600 a month.  Cabin provided.  You gotta cook yer own tender vittlens and pay fer em too.  Didn't say if there were a stove or a fire pit.  Did say preferred to bring yer own horse and tack.  Wish I had my own horse and tack.  Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, that ain't true.  I hate poop.  I like long showers, doin my hair,  smellin' purty, and sleepin' indoors under clean sheets.  Don't think I would do so great on the open range. It was a nice idea while it lasted.  

Too bad this job wasn't posted back in 1937.  My grandfather wouldda loved it.  Matter of fact, he had a job similar in Oregon territory (actually it was a state by then).  Only difference is there was no cabin and he slept outside and sometimes they ran out of food and he had to eat rodents like squirrels.  He loved riding his horse though.  See--don't think I'm cut out to be a cowgirl or at least not a real one. I do have some very nice and slick lookin' Ariats.  I am in LOVE with my boots.  I guess I am more of a poser or a city slicker since as I said before I hate poop and don't like bein' dirty.  I would like the range rider job if I could dress like Dale Evans and get pampered too (see kick ass image below.  Note: My mom was named after Dale Evans).  That would make it all worth it.  Happy Trails and happy job huntin....

Temp Job....

Since I haven't found a job yet--this week marks the first week that I will be helping out a friend at a resort. My friend is the head of housekeeping so I will be in the laundry room.  Not much different than what I do at home on a daily basis. Honestly, I don't mind because I will be out of the house for a few hours.  I have never been in an industrial laundry room so this will be a new endeavor.  Also, the perk to helping my friend is maybe I can finally learn how to fold fitted sheets really well.  I've got towels and flat sheets down pat but fitted sheets always look a tad rounded and funky when they are stashed on a shelf next to their neatly squared-cornered sheet mate.  


The sad part is that I am helping a friend in the laundry room because I don't have a job anymore.  All those stupid diplomas and certifications don't mean anything right now.  Who am I going to impress with them?  "Look towels, I am going to fold you and you are going to like it.  You are going to listen to me and be folded nicely.  Sheets, you too!! You will respect my authority!  You will obey as I try to fold you into squares.  None of this balling up as I fold you, dammit! I graduated high school early. I went to college. I am a certified floodplain manager; certified planner; have my cpr certification and in the 8th grade I took boaters safety and got a certificate for that too.  You, laundry, shall do as I say because I know what I am talking about!"  For some reason I don't think it will matter what I have behind me or on the walls in the office (or in a box right now since I am in the process of moving).  Laundry probably won't care and neither will the people who use that laundry.  Do you think the tourists that stay at the resort will have remarks like "Look Honey!!! This towel was folded neatly into and "E" shape.  The folder is obviously an AICP."  "Oh my, these sheets have been arranged so nicely.  Obviously this was prepared by a college graduate."  Um....No.  Not going to happen.  In the meantime, I will have to forget my pity party as I am moving and will be busy folding laundry. 


Here is a picture of me folding towels.  I am not much of an artist so you will have to pretend those are towels.  Also, I will not be folding towels and sheets in the office as it will be at the resort my friend works at and I will not post all my certificates on the wall.  My picture is not an accurate portrayal of what it will really look like. I assume my hair will be messier and their will be lots of washers and dryers.   

A Promising Job

Ok.  So I lied.  It is not a promising job that I saw posted on Craigslist this morning.  It did make me think and I briefly became creative and had one of those little daydreams in my head where I am off doing something different other than sitting on the couch with my laptop on my knees...  It was for a Graveyard Waitress.   Right away I thought "Who would want to work in the cemetery at night?"  Then I remembered that I am blonde and realized it was for the night shift.  No shit.  That is how my brain works sometimes especially the longer I go without exercising it with a real job that involves thinking and crap like that.  Anyway, here is a picture that I drew of what I thought the job should entail.  I bet this is more fun than the real job since the real job is at the bowling alley.  It is the only 24 hour restaurant we have in town.  It would not really be a fun job since the railroaders and drunks are most likely the only ones to come in that late at night.  But I bet that would make it easier than a busy shift.  However, it would be more fun if it was in the graveyard.  Boo!

Craigslist also has a post by a middle school student who doesn't want to work for money, he wants to work for a dirt bike.  So if anyone has a dirt bike laying around please give it to that kid because he went out of his way to post that and it was probably out of his comfort zone-- because in junior high I was shy and not outgoing like that--I bet he isn't either but he REALLY wants a dirt bike so he is willing to post on craigslist, give up his entire summer, and walk or ride a bike all over town just to do work so he can get a dirt bike.  If I had a dirt bike I would give it to him.  I sure like that kid.  I almost hope he finds a job before I do because I at least get unemployment and this poor kid he gets nothing.  Good luck to you kid.  I hope you find your bike soon!

It's my Anniversary!!!

Most people celebrate anniversaries so I will mark this occasion.  I have officially been unemployed for 3 months today.  Oh joy!  Three months ago I sat under fluorescent lights for 8 hours a day in front of two (yes 2) LCD monitors and answered emails, shuffled papers, designed pretty maps of land use use and park locations and got yelled at often by the general public who doesn't like whatever it is that there neighbor is doing.  Three months ago I did that.  

Fast Forward to April 26, 2010:  I still sit in front of computer for 8 hours a day and answer emails however it is mainly fun now.  I draw pretty pictures in paint.  I use paint.net to morph pictures of normal people into pictures of my sister and I visiting far-off places like Niagra Falls.  Sometimes I post on forums.  I update my facebook status a few times a week, I play evony and everyday sort through job postings on Craigslist and apply for those that make more than working at Wendy's (which isn't many here since we have a rather high unemployment rate of 13.2%.  Aargh!).    However, I think that I like my life better now.  I am broke and eligible for public assistance but I am happy.  My boss is myself and I tell me what to do.  Here are some scenarios to compare then versus now:

3 months ago:  Boss says “There is a city council meeting and we need these reports written ASAP and someone will need to give the presentations...you have 2 hours...GO!”

Now:  It is 11 am and I still haven't taken a shower.  I say “Self, take a shower!”  So I do. Much more relaxed.

3 months ago:  “My neighbor is building a house and their roof is blocking my view of the ski run, please stop him/my neighbor is painting their house blue and it doesn't match the shade of my house, please stop them/my neighbor doesn't mow his yard as much as I want him to, please stop him/I want to sell donuts in a residential area please don't stop me.”

Now:  Me--looking out the window at my neighbor--He is washing his car in his driveway peacefully.  I am watching a rerun of Cold Case.  I am drinking a beer.  This is nice.  No one stops me.

So as you can hopefully see, I am a better boss than my old one as I let myself do nothing really and everything is fun.  I don't get yelled at and if I do, I am in my house so I can yell back.   That feels really good.  I feel more like I have graduated to Neverneverland since I really do whatever I feel like.  This summer is going to be fun!  I do like anniversaries.  Now to celebrate, I am going to have a beer.  Cheers!

*Later, after my celebratory dinner of sloppy joes and strawberry yogurt I shall post a happy drawing to commemorate this occasion.*  **Update:  Here are the pictures that show me then, with a job and now without a job.

Slave Labor in Montana

During my quest for gainful employment (I call it that because my father always used that term because it means a “real” job and not a wayward kind of summer gig or one that will require you live in your Dad's basement for years) I have followed up on a number of promising postings on craigslist for independent contractor positions.  You know, where I do something for someone because I want to not because my boss is lazy and makes me do it so they can then take the credit for it—that kind of work. 

Back in March I saw an ad that really sparked my interest.  It involved distressed properties and vacant properties.  It was for a Field Inspector and it involved using a digital camera or camera phone and knowledge of how to use the computer and email.  BINGO!  I can do this one for sure.  Plus, I had been researching field inspector jobs because the foreclosure rate is rather high and they are in demand.  (These are the jerks that drive by your house and take pictures so the bank can put the picture on the internet before you have been fully foreclosed, evicted and lost everything—I know, times are tough, I need a job,  Jeez...)  I googled the email, backchecked the company = figured it was legitimate and got the name of the person who posted it and found their picture online too (I have also been looking for jobs as a skip tracer and private dick---I just used the word dick and it wasn't naughty, haha) so I fired off an email to the email listed on the craigslist post. 

Dear Courtney:

I am interested in the posting on Craigslist for a part-time field inspector.  I have a laptop, digital camera and reliable transportation. I also have extensive knowledge of Flathead County and the surrounding areas as I used to perform site visits regularly.   I am a professional land use planner by trade however I was recently laid off due to budget reasons.   I am now working part-time as a land use consultant. 

Attached is a pdf version of my resume.  Although I may appear highly qualified, I truly am interested in any part--time positions that may be available.  I look forward to hearing from you.  I may be reached at my home number of 406-000-0000 on my cell phone at 000-867-5309.

Regards,

Nikki 

Reflecting back I would not have put the part about the budget cutback BS but if a professional anything is looking for a job at let's say, KFC, one would usually assume that they suck and can't get a real job that have training for or they suck and were fired and I don't suck.  That said, I included it and the thingy about being highly qualified.  Have you seen my resume?  I have not always worked at burrito buses (not that there is anything wrong with it...)


A few days later I get a response and without spending as much time as it took me to write this little story or the earlier email, I erased the idea from my memory.  Actually, it was such a sham deal that I rather forgot about it until I was a running a clean up of the folder where I save all the random doo-doo I find on the internet and remembered that I had saved the webpage and then located the emails here for your enjoyment.  Anyway, blah blah, I am talking too much so here is the response and I will let you decide if I made the right choice with not following up... *Note you don't have to read everything she wrote.  I kinda added some large fonts and crap to point out the stupid parts*

Good afternoon Nikki:
My name is Edwina and I'm the rep coordinator for the state of Montana. Please read the information provide below, and we can talk about what area's you can cover.  Here is some information on the types of work we do and compensation: 
Many of our inspections only require a simple verification of occupancy,a description of the property, and a photo.  With every inspection, you need to determine the condition of the property and the neighborhood,the roof type, the color, the type of property (is it single family,condo, apartment?), construction type (brick, frame, etc) and the number of stories.  It's also very important to note if the property is for sale, and if so, we need the realtor name and phone number.  Sometimes these inspections may include a letter or door tag to leave at the property for the homeowner.
If there is a letter to be delivered to the homeowner it must be left at the property in a sealed envelope. Or, the mortgage company may ask that we leave a call back tag at the property.  This simply provides the mortgage company's name and toll-free number with a request that the mortgagor call them.
We also do insurance loss inspections or Loss Drafts.  This inspection requires you to set an appointment with the homeowner to go out and view and photograph repairs being made to the  property.  
Our company does a wide range of inspections; many not requiring any contact at the property.  We are always looking for good; reliable reps within every community.  
Our company also does Property Preservation to keep each vacant property in good condition and within city codes.  We do things like change locks, remove left over personal property and damaged appliances, winterization and mow lawns just to name a few.  As a rep, you are not required to do both preservation and inspection work, however, they do go hand in hand, and both are integral parts of what we do.


Here are the fees we pay for each type of inspection:

• Loan Service Report/No Contact 7.50
• Loan Service Report/With Contact 8.00
• Property Inspection Only 7.50
• Rush Property Inspection 15.00
• Loss Draft 12.00
• Rush Loss Draft 15.00
• Commercial Inspection 15.00
• Rush Commercial Inspection 25.00

*Note: I made the font much larger and red so you could see it easier.   I would also like to point out that these prices are in US dollars not abbreviations for larger denomiations although they could be in pesos since it is such a small amount.  Barely covers for the frickin' gas money in most cases.  Flathead County is over 5,00 square miles in size - it is comparable to the entire state of Connecticut for pete's sake.


We require a 25% discount on any preservation work we assign to you. (What???? They will pay me even less than the dribble they quoted above??? Hello McFly....NO!!!!!)


Please let me know either way if you are interested in joining our team at Wewillscrewyouover (name changed to protect anonnimty of slave labor using company that is not Wal-Mart).  If so, please provide all of your contact information including your mailing address, fax number, all phone numbers where you can be 
reached, and your SSN or Tax ID with company name, whichever you prefer. I look forward to hearing from you.  Have a wonderful day.
I have put together a list of counties I need help in, please let me know what counties you can work. [I edited out the list of what looked like all 56 counties in Montana so you wouldn't have to read them but if you are interested here is a list of all of them alphabetically  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_counties_in_Montana]
Thank you, 
Edwina [I also omitted her last name and contact info because I don't want crazies on the internet contacting her and telling her they got her number from me.  That's not how I roll...]

Happy Administrative Professionals Week

So apparently this week is "Administrative Professionals Week."  I knew of Secretaries Day and that they changed it to Administrative Assistant Day to be more P.C. in the early 00's but I didn't realize there is now a whole week of celebration.  WOW!  I wonder what offices really do to celebrate all week long?????  


When I was an administrative assistant (very long ago) a coworker told me to get him some coffee.  I told him to screw himself.  He said "What, you are my secretary."  I said "No, I am an Administrative Assistant."  So then he said since I wasn't a secretary and wouldn't fetch his morning cup of joe that he wouldn't buy me flowers for Secretaries Day.  He didn't either but his wife did.  She took the money out of his wallet when she heard what a flippin' tard he was and pitched it into the office pool which provided me with a bouquet of assorted rainbow colored flowers and a very nice lunch out.  Ahhhh, those were the days....


Here is how I would celebrate each day of Administrative Professionals Week if I was employed.  I would show up to work everyday and do my job.  I would also thank my employer on a daily basis for hiring me so that I would have a job and not have to live in my car (I don't really live in my car now but I used to have the greatest boss in the history of mankind and when we would bitch about how someone did us wrong or how work sucked she would remind us that we should be thankful that we had jobs and didn't have to live in our cars--and how right she was too).  I would then make coffee and offer to refill everyone's mugs when they were getting low and maybe even wear one of those server's aprons with the front pockets so I could carry around little packets of sugar, sugar in the raw, splenda, truvia, nutra-sweet (so many kinds because everyone has a differing favorite) and a cornucopia of flavored non-dairy creamers to make everyone that much more happy with their choice in hiring me.  And that is what I would do to celebrate Administrative Professionals Week.  Hire me please.....


My job search continues but it is filled with really simplistic jobs that even my 14 year old is over-qualified to do and would probably quit because it makes more money to be on unemployment.  I saw an advertisement for a retail greeter.  I don't think I am old enough to do that and plus I might not be very good at that.  I don't like to meet new people.  


I also saw a very interesting prospect on Craigslist this weekend and I may look into but I have some reservations.  You see, I prefer quiet.  I don't really like loud that much and you know that I don't like stupid typos and noob users of computers and the like.  Anyway, this job could be promising because it is for a Fortune 500 company (or so says the ad).  The problem with the ad is that it is in ALL CAPS AND THAT MAKES ME AFRAID THAT THEY WILL SCREAM EVERYTHING AND I WON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE THERE and they said it was an Echo-friendly company which worries me because then all that yelling they do will just echo back and forth and what if it is in a very solid building where those sounds just reverb all day long from the yelling.  My tummy is starting to hurt thinking about it and I am now getting anxiety from it.....I really hope that they meant it was an Eco-friendly company because I like recycling and earth-friendly alternatives.  I also think it might be a good fit for me because much like myself, this company obviously enjoys using run-on sentences.  Here is that posting:

Happy Administrative Professionals Week to you and your friends who are lucky enough to have jobs and not sleep in your car.....