Not That I Mean To Complain...

...but this is getting ridiculous.
I still have no mail regarding my rental assistance or my NJ unemployment outcome. I called the rental assistance place and was literally shifted from one person to the other, both passing the buck to the other. The guy that interviewed me told me to call his supervisor because she made the decisions. I called her and she told me to call the one who interviewed me because he handles my case. I called my interviewer back and he said that his supervisor is supposed to make the decision, so while I was on the phone, he went to go talk to her. I'm sure I heard her voice registering on the higher scales in the background. Then when he got back on the phone he told me that my reply would come in the mail and there was nothing else he could do because his supervisor was the one to make the decision.

???????

It is CRAZY. Meanwhile, Igor, over at the Oct. 22nd appointment in Brooklyn told me that HIS supervisor was supposed to make the decision THAT NIGHT, there in THEIR office.

Just because I'm an idiot, and a piss-poor financial advisor doesn't mean that I should be flat out lied to, does it? There is no more mystery to me why poor people on public assistance are always so pissed off. While you would think "Why aren't these people more grateful for the free assistance?" being treated like a pure fool tends to disipate one's sense of gratitude.

Well, I have a resume out to Jersey for a steady job which'll pay near what I was getting as a full timer for my last company, without any counselling or supervision involved at all--except on the phone when I follow up the disposition of mental health services for those covered by the company's insurance money. The resume went through the recruiter and now I'm waiting for the personnel department to call me and bring me in for an interview. It's been a week now. Still waiting.

Meanwhile meanwhile, I'm working at Starbucks and getting closer to perfection, so I'm really enjoying it. Too bad, again, that it isn't paying enough, even though it's paying 8.25/hr. But it's not full time, and the way my body complained a few days ago when I did 12 hours, and a few days later when I did 8 hours, I couldn't do it full time anyway. After all, I AM Forty years old. Not what I used to be, physically.

I almost feel like I'm giving up in these desperate days, and just giving in to the greasy foods and sugary drinks which bring such nice quick pleasures. And at Forty, I can't afford to let my body go the way it's going. What will be the chances of recovery? Will I be able to burn the fat and tone the muscles now the way I did in my twenties?

Poverty is a stone-cold beotch, and don't let anyone tell you differently.

Okay, so I voted yesterday, then walked back home with a smile on my face.

Still, I don't yet know who the President's going to be this morning. Then again, I haven't turned on the telly yet. Nor have I turned on the part of me that cares.

Last night, in flipping channels to get away from all the newscasters saying "We don't yet know the results" I landed on Queer Eye for The Straight Guy (the origins of that phrase I've yet to truly understand). They went into a man's home in Manhattan somewhere to help him out. He lived in a three floor townhouse with a full basement. He had lost his job, lost his wife to divorce, and lost his father to death. He had let his place go seedy and had things strewn about everywhere. He was obviously depressed, but perked up for the cameras and the gay guys flouncing all across his home, messing with his stuff. (They ARE hilarious, I'll give you that. They say the funniest things when they're making fun of what they find and then the camera freezes at the end of their jibes.)
But what I couldn't understand was how that straight guy could afford to continue living in a four-story Manhattan townhouse unemployed. ????? That White-Guy's Secret Club thing again where bank tellers just throw money at them after all the people of color are out of earshot? Prrrrrobably not. He probably had 401K's and annuities out the wazoo. Probably has investments and NY unemployment insurance which kicked in WAY faster than mine seems to be doing from NJ. And his father died, so he probably got a nice big fat inheritance, since white folk seem to know how to take care of their children financially (hello, Donald Trump, anyone?).

Mmph.

I have two more months of financial confusion and headache before I attempt to get a New York license to practice. I hope I survive that long, because I think things will really turn the corner once that career gets going.

Next year ths time, things will be sweet.

And I've been saying that every year of my life.

Still waiting.

Meanwhile meanwhile meanwhile--Hey MA-MA!!

Me at 11/03/2004 11:37:00 AM

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