This was my first trip ever to the unemployment office. I expected it to be much like the tag office (motor vehicles, for those who don't reside in Georgia), but I was happily surprised. Efficient. Friendly. Understanding. Not unclean. Lots of computers. Lots of useless handouts and flyers. No real jobs per-se. But plenty of forms to fill out.
Still, depressing overall. Something empty in the eyes of those of us once-valuable employees filling out forms, sitting, waiting for our turn in "big room A," where we got more paperwork and instructions for using the web site.
My biggest question was, if you work one week and make a lot of money, but then you don't work for two weeks, can you collect for those two weeks.
The answer was yes.
Well, that's good news.
The maximum here in Georgia is $295 a week. Imagine that. The lady told me, "Doesn't matter if you made $26,000 a year or $1 million a year--the most you get is $295 a week." I said, "That's tragic." She said, "Yes it is, isn't it."
I don't have any qualms about collecting for the weeks when no work comes in. At our house, $295 will buy groceries and gas and pay for Pre-K. Nothing to sneeze at. I worked for it for the last 20 years. I'll take it.
When I left unemployment, I got 2 for 1 Chick-fil-A sandwiches for dinner. The woman at the drive through asked me if I wanted to donate a dollar to Big Brothers Big Sisters. I said, "No, I'm sorry. I just lost my job."
Don't ask me why. I should have given the dollar. If I could afford to stop for Chick-fil-a, even 2 for 1, I could have offered up the dollar. I think I'll go back and give it to her next week. She was sweet, college age, and told me, "I'm so sorry to hear that about your job--we're hiring managers here you know." I asked her how the benefits were. She said great--you get them after 60 days. "I get to go to school free," she told me.
I told her I thought that was just "awesome" and that I really appreciated how friendly and courteous she was. I told her I might be back to take her up on the manager job. You never know.
That's where Jenna wants me to work, you know. When I told her I wasn't going to be working at the tall building in midtown anymore, she said, "OH! Maybe you can work at Chick-fil-a like Jackeline's mom!"
Kids.
Kids?
Why am I so tired?
OH, I took Jenna to the dentist today and her two bottom teeth are starting to loosen up. She is so proud. She wants to lose those teeth so badly. I thought she'd burst when the dentist told her they were actually loose. She sat bolt upright in the chair, looked at me, and shivered. She does that when she gets really excited.
I do it too lately. Not for the same reasons.
As I write this, Jenna just woke up with growing pains. She's standing on the steps crying.
And it's 2:30 a.m.
No sleep for the weary.
Papa's tending to her, saying, "It's okay, boodle," and carrying her upstairs.
I'm gonna go look for the motrin.
night all.
