"I get laid off about three times every year."

It's been a while since I've blogged, but there's been a lot going on. For one, I got a new job, which is incredible news! I have been there about a week and a half and so far so good. I know where the coffee is, where the bathroom is and have figured out how to get in and out of the door without locking myself out of the building. All in all, I'd say I'm really starting to figure it out.

Now that I am a full time employee and contributing member of society, I no longer am required to fill in my weekly unemployment certifications on Sunday, waiting patiently for my direct deposit on Tuesday of the following week. I even called today to alert them of my good news and bid them a fond farewell, hoping to never need their services again.

But, at the beginning of this month, I was just one of the many weekly certifiers. And, on one typical Sunday in a went to the system to declare 1) No I didn't do any work 2) No I didn't get any money 3) No I didn't turn down any work 4) And, yes I was available for work. On this particular week, however, we had a few bonus questions. One of those asked if I was self employed, to which I answered yes because I had done some contract/freelance work. I figured I did some work, but I'm not an employee of a company so that mus mean I'm self-employed. The answer is, no I am not and was not self-employed. That answer indication was really just a big red flag telling somebody at the unemployment to not pay this lady trying to steal money from the government. The problem, however, was here I am unemployed, answered my questions, waiting patiently for my money and I ain't getting anything. I tried calling, A LOT, and after four days of trying from 8 am when the phone lines opened until 5 or so when the phone lines closed and not getting through I realized I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. That's right. I was going to have to physically go to the unemployment office.

So, off I go. Now let me paint this picture for you. I decide, at the recommendation of my friend, to go to the one in Cary since it was less busy. I'm cruising down the road in Cary, all is well. Everything looks like Cary. And then I take a turn to the left. With that one turn I was in a different city, different state, maybe even a different country. I was now in Tijuana, Mexico. Officially, but with a lo of Chinese restaurants around me. I park the car among some half blue, half red vans, vehicles missing a door here and there and between 18 potholes. After feeling like the car was relatively safe between the Chinese restaurant and laundry mat, off I went into the land of unemployment.

First thing I saw was all the posters from my high school guidance office. I sort of chuckled inside a little thinking I should finally become an underwater welder. When I opened the door, I see the infamous line about 10 deep. I figure I have nothing else to do since I have no job and had no prospect of a job so I just hopped in line. All around me are people really trying hard to secure employment. They are sporting their business suits from the 80s, shoulder pads and all, navy tights and those kinda square-toed heels. There are people taking the online tests to determine their next career path. People are coming in with paperwork and resumes. The employee are disgustingly busy. And, there I stand, texting on my pink phone from Sprint. I felt terrible. At first I felt like, "I don't belong here" and then I realized, "Yes I do." Anybody can belong here. Anybody can lose their job. I'm sure these people didn't think they'd be here one day, economy in the toilet, searching any job they can get their hands on. But, here we all were. One big, happy, unemployed family.

I was two away from the counter when the one lady went to lunch. My luck has pretty much gone that way lately. This one guy had been up there FOREVER and I finally catch on to the fact that he is not even unemployed, yet he's trying to collect benefits. At this point, I am done with him and need him to return to his workplace, no matter how fewer hours he is receiving. And, as I'm trying to eavesdrop, this person walks in, bringing with him the worst odor you've ever smelled. I tried to scoot up in line to avoid the smell that was wafting from him with no avail. The more he moved, the more I smelled and then I started having gag reflexes. I know you're going to say it sounds harsh, but I mean this is why this person is not employed. He may be a very great employee, but this body appearance and smell is not going to keep an employer, nor the public, happy for long. I'm going back and forth between feeling terrible for thinking about the smell and wanting so badly to run to wanting so badly to help this person by cluing them in. Luckily for all involved, I was called up to the counter.

I tell my problem. We get it fixed. The man thinks I'm a moron and I begin correcting my answer choices. While I'm completing my papers, here comes smelly man right up next to me. Again. I quickly finish and off I go, but not before hearing him say, "I get laid off about three times every year." I didn't really know what to say so I said good luck and out I went to retrieve my vehicle from between the Chinese restaurant and the laundry mat. The next day I had a job offer and realized how very blessed and lucky I am.

My trip to unemployment was sobering. There are so many people out there who have not just been dealing with this for a few weeks and months, but rather years. They want jobs and can't find them. I hope each and every one of them is as lucky as I was, but unfortunately I know they won't be. And as quickly as I've gone back to the routine of wishing for the weekend already on Monday, each time I remember how lucky I am to have a job to go to, shoulder pad business suit or not.