Tales from the Shark Tank

I had to go in to the unemployment office to sign some paperwork today. I figured it would take me an hour, give or take a bit. Instead it took the whole ruddy afternoon.

First I needed something that was actually from the Social Security Administration with my ssn on it, and no, my paystub was not adequate proof of social security number. I have not had a physical social security card in my possession since I memorized the number when I was about 16. I never saw much point in replacing it, either. I mean, no one can steal what isn’t there, right? Well, now I need one, so I hied myself over to the SSA branch office across the street from the unemployment office.

And waited. I had brought my little notebook with me (it lives in my purse), but no reading material. I discovered that there actually is a limit to how much writing I can manage to do. I did get in some wonderful people-watching (or in some cases listening), though. There was the woman behind me, complaining bitterly that the BMV had suspended her license for lack of insurance, and didn’t give a damn about the circumstances. She was ascribing personal malice to the State of Indiana, and seemed remarkably clueless about how this horrible thing had happened to her. I had no trouble resisting the temptation to enlighten her, as I was afraid she would then ask me to fix it. The notion of personal responsibility did not seem to be anywhere in her worldview.

I found myself remarkably grateful to have been able to leave my son home with our housemate as I watched a little girl about 4 years old who had her mother and grandmother surrounded and outnumbered. She was very quiet, as Joseph would not have been, but she was under chairs, on tables, and attempting to climb any adult in the path she happened to have chosen. I watched her mother remove her from attempts to scale no less than 5 unrelated mountains, none of whom was me.

There was the young woman cuddling her infant son, alternating between the usual cooing and pleas to stay awake now and sleep at night. Her tone did not shift in the least between the two messages. The baby, of course, kept on sleeping. He was utterly oblivious to everything except the fact that he was warm, on mommy’s chest, and hearing mommy’s voice. He was in newborn nirvana, and no amount of maternal cajoling was going to wake him.

And then there was the two-tone convertable/ boy about 11 or 12. His hair was cut very short around the sides and back, and longer on top. I’ve seen that a lot, but I have no idea what it’s called. The noteworthy aspect of his coiffure, however, was its coloration. The short part was forest green. Not gaudy, but decidedly green. The top was a combination of shades of blond, none of which have ever been seen in nature. He had a game-boy, and never looked up from it. There might as well not have been another human present for all the notice he took of the other occupants of the room. Even the inquisitive 4 year old left him strictly alone.

Finally my number was called, and I handed in my application, got my verification letter, and left. Once I was called it took under two minutes. Sigh. Then it was back to the unemployment office, there to go through no less than 5 people before I concluded that they had no concept how to handle someone whose job went away due to political reorganization. I finally made some suggestions on how to handle the problem I presented, which were seized upon. In the end, I wrote out the entire story long hand, with time-line. It ran to 3 pages. That will be sent to someone with more authority – someone in a position analagous to that which I used to occupy, I suspect. And then my former agency will have to figure out how to respond. That used to be my job. I’m enjoying the irony.

I’m headed into my fourth week of unemployment, buoyed by my in-laws but still floundering a bit. My in-laws, bless them, decided that worrying about keeping the house and paying the bills was a waste of energy, and have given us a desperately needed net. But I’m accustomed to having a certain amount of external structure to my days, and that’s gone. I’m really not very good at supplying it for myself. This week is especially weird, as Joseph is on Spring Break. That means I don’t even have the discipline of getting him out the door to school in the morning.

Looked at objectively, I’ve gotten a lot done these past few weeks, but it doesn’t really feel like it. I’ve gotten a clear look at the circumstances we’re in, and it isn’t pretty. We’ve had enough disasters, without recovery time in between, that we can’t catch ourselves anymore. I really, really hate that. My father-in-law is right; the blame game is a waste of energy. But I can’t forget what’s past, or what part I had in it.

And then there are my folks, who can’t let the subject drop no matter how many times I explain the logic. I can clear the record with my late unlamented employer, and probably with the unemployment folks, but I’ve no way to clear public perception generally. I’ve had people suggest a defamation suit, but all that would do is prolong the notoriety. Keeping my name in the paper simply reminds people what I was accused of to begin with, and whatever the ideal of our system, innocence is not what John Q. Public assumes. I know my parents love me, and are indignant on my behalf, but darn it, this is a decision I have to make and I’m tired of being asked if I’m absolutely sure this is the correct course. Who, me, grumpy? Oh, a bit. I’m not sure who I feel more sorry for – my husband or my son. Probably the latter. He doesn’t understand why Mommy can’t be induced to play tag or trains with him. Today he instructed me very solemnly to practice smiling.

I think I’ll work on that tomorrow.

The word is in, and it is not good. The agency that I hoped to work for has hired someone else. I can’t argue; I was told the qualifications of the person chosen, and I was indeed outclassed in the matter of experience. That’s why they stalled me the other day; they were waiting to see if the other person would accept. I was second choice.

The lawyer who told me all this also told me that if they get another opening, he’ll let me know forthwith, and that the article in the paper didn’t bear on the decision at all. He said, and I quote: “We’ve been around state government long enough to know what that really means.”

I’m disappointed -very. I had hopes for this for so many reasons, not least that I didn’t want to have to rely on my in-laws, as we will now be forced to do. But I sent out more resumes today, and have a few more to attend to tomorrow. Wick sent a bunch out, too. That he is ready to do that is a wonderful thing indeed. He’ll do his best, and I’ll do mine, and maybe I’ll even manage to get something like this grant-writing thing going. We’ll be ok in the end. But right now, I’m not the happiest shark in the tank.

When last we heard from our intrepid scribbler, she was waiting to hear about the results of an interview, madder than a wet cat about an article in the paper, and getting lots of conflicting advice from other, equally indignant people.

So…I spoke to one of the attorneys who interviewed me this morning, and found out they haven’t made a choice at all. He’s hoping for Friday, and told me if I hadn’t heard from him by Friday noon, I should go ahead and call him. He also commented, in passing, that they won’t be able to start the new person next Monday (their original timetable), so that “you’ll have a bit of time to get daycare back on line”. I take that as a very hopeful sign. The Governor’s Office has to approve all attorney hiring, so it could still go south, but I don’t think the folks I talked to are holding my departure from BMV against me. If the Governor’s Office does, this guy will tell me.

I’ve applied for unemployment, and expect to be challenged. I found out today that they didn’t pay me my accrued vacation (not a lot left; I used it up being sick in December), so they are in fact treating this as “termination for cause.” I’ve written a polite letter explaining the websites that appeared and why, as best I could recall, and asking that my firing be converted to a resignation.

Otherwise? I’m ok. I think the folks I left behind are taking the manner of my departure worse than I am. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I can split my time between job hunting, teaching myself science grant application writing, being Joseph’s mommy and getting ready for Passover. I really wish the folks for whom I’m grant-seeking and writing could afford me. I’d love to make that into a full time job. On the other hand, if I do it right, I may be able to engineer that for myself! It’s nice to have that much of my destiny in my own two hands. And Passover is much easier this year, as I’m keeping it to immediate family. It will be those of us living in the house, my folks, and our housemate’s S.O. That’s it. It will be about half the size it’s been the past few years. I thought I’d have a hard time telling folks I wasn’t doing the big invite-everyone Seder this year, but it’s been remarkably easy. I’ll have to remember that for future reference.

There are only two downsides. The first one is that my father-in-law doesn’t understand clinical depression in the least, and genuinely thinks that his son just needs to snap out of it. I’m trying to explain, trying to communicate, trying to find ways to make it clear that it doesn’t work that way and that it takes time, but he believes what he believes, and I’m not making a dent. And since we need their help to survive this disaster until I make landfall, we can’t just let it go.

Second is that much as I love Spring, I could live without what the blooming trees and bouncing barometer do to me. I’ve woken up with a migraine every morning this week. I’m getting more than a little tired of it. For them as has to deal with me in town, fair warning: the flares are out.

Silence does not mean depression, assent, or really much of anything except a very well occupied lap. I have a really sick little bunny, home from school for the third day. He wants Mommy?s attention and presence ? undivided, naturally. I?m good at many things, multitasking among them. Typing with a 50 pound lump in my lap, however, is not among them. That?s ok. Really, as timing goes, this is pretty good. I probably needed the enforced down-time too, if I?m honest.

My unemployment ? or abrupt conversion from public-sector employment to self-employment ? has left us in a bit of a bind financially. I?ve heard a few comments from some of my former co-workers (mostly at the clerical level) to the effect that I shouldn?t have been the primary wage-earner in the first place. I?m not so sure about that. I started thinking about the women I am closest to. It took a matter of seconds to realize that all of us are the primary support of our households, and that makes me wonder what societal trend is shifting under our very noses.

I thought of half a dozen women in addition to myself. We range in age from early thirties to mid fifties. Some of us have a child, some of us don?t. Interestingly enough, even those of us with offspring have only one. (I?m not counting step-kids here.) We are, one and all, frighteningly well educated, as are our husbands. Among 14 people, we have: 6 J.D.s, 2 R.N.s, 5 or 6 Ph.D.s, (with a couple in progress) at least 4 M.L.S. degrees (two in progress), and a random assortment of masters and bachelors degrees. The least educated person among all those couples has a college degree. Each of our husbands was raised to believe that they were supposed to be the support of the family. Yet for whatever reasons ? and there are as many reasons as there are families ? we?ve ended up in the position of providing the primary source of family income.

I used to read a lot of articles about how families planned their incomes, and how they?d talk it over and it just made sense to work it out so that the primary earner was the woman. I haven?t seen any like that in quite a while, perhaps because it?s becoming more common, or perhaps, in this era of social retrogression, it?s becoming less acceptable. But the thing is that of this admittedly non-typical (of much of anything) group, none of us ? not one family ? planned it this way. It just sort of happened. I?m trying to think of another time when this pattern appeared, and I?m drawing a blank. Oh, women went to work in droves during the industrial revolution, but then that was very much a lower strata phenomenon. That doesn?t describe at all what I?m seeing now. And historian that I am, that has me wondering why.

I’ve spoken to my father-in-law, my parents, and my husband. My father-in-law’s advice is to leave the whole thing strictly alone and let people forget about it. My father wants me to call the reporter who did the story and give him the whole background on it, complete with the reason I didn’t try to defend myself. My husband is for letting it drop if it’s done no immediate harm, but going after it if it has. Mom thinks I should call the folks who just interviewed me, and tell them it was the culmination of a long string of harrassments. I had thought of that, but my father-in-law is adamantly opposed. And that’s just short term. Long term, the advice gets even more wildly divergent. The only thing consistent is that life-long party members are talking about voting the other way in November, on the theory that if our current Governor’s people are so petty, vindictive and small minded, it says very little for his judgment. I must admit I agree with that part of the assessment.

Huh. I guess I’ll just have to figure this one out myself, eh?

I am so angry I can’t see straight. I didn’t contest the method my agency chose to get rid of me because I just figured there’d be something else. Now they’ve listed me on the front page of the paper as “fired for improper computer use.” The thing was bogus to begin with.

I’ll let it play out. But if I don’t get the job for which I just interviewed, then I will suing. And they’ve just added defamation to the list.

Well, I had my interview with the Department of Transportation today. By all indications, it went well. For one thing, they took an hour and half with me. For another, it was a very comfortable sort of chat. We ended up telling each other stories, and learning a bit about each other as people. Somehow we got into a discussion of the ethics of using DDT where people are dying of malaria in droves, and of the idea that helping other societies shouldn’t mean making them over in our image.

I went in with some trepidations. I have a cold (medicated to the teeth), and I am not at my best nor most alert. But I still managed to get some raised eyebrows of the “you did all that by yourself? I have four people covering those areas!” variety, which can only be to the good. The other comment came when they asked how much notice I had to give BMV. I told them we had already parted company, and that if they desired, I could start Monday. The response? “Well, that’s certainly good for us!” They say they’re intending to make a decision by the middle of next week. I won’t start to worry unless I’ve heard nothing until a week or so after that. But I told general counsel and managing counsel very specifically that I want this job, and think I would both like it and be good at it. No point being reticent on this one. Now I get to keep my fingers crossed.

And in the meantime, I’m still keeping busy. There’s this local judge, see. She read a custody report that mentioned that the parents of the child were Wiccan. So she ordered – without any request by anyone – that they both avoid exposing the child to “non-traditional religions”. Can you say “unconstitutional”? I certainly can. And when I’m done, I suspect the judge will be able to also.

Long promised, long delayed, but not by inertia. I have not fallen into silence. I’ve simply been one busy bird.

The saga of ending my job on Friday was that I found out that they were moving me out of my office, had no laptop for me to check out, would not permit me to use my own laptop, had no cubicle or alternative office for me, and would not let me telecommute until the 15th, when presumably my presence would be required to train the incoming general counsel. I put my concerns in writing; pointing out that they were waiving attorney client privilege, that I could not vouch for the quality of my work product under such conditions, and that indeed they were making it impossible for me to do my job. In essence, I threw a fit. Then I took a tranquilizer. I don’t like that much, but the last time it was necessary was about 10 years ago. Once per decade I’ll permit myself.

But I didn’t resign. So the Powers That Be went looking for a reason to fire me forthwith, and found one: excessive use of the state computer to access unauthorized websites. The websites in question? Oh, Google, Yahoo, and Ask.com figured prominently. Gee whiz, I use search engines. Imagine that. One of the ones they printed out concerned flags of Caribbean countries. They didn’t give me the chance to explain that it was legitimate. I’d been presented with documents from a country I’d never heard of. So I -gasp- Googled it. It turned up on that website, and I went and looked. I figured if it had a flag, it was probably a real country. They didn’t give me a chance to respond to anything. They would have had security escort me out, but my boss wouldn’t let them. So she and I packed up all my things, I handed her my key and my badge, and I left. I am told they have not yet changed my voicemail message. Someone who shall remain nameless left me a message – in Hebrew. I wish the Powers That Be luck with that one! (Thanks, Murray.)

By the time I got home Friday evening, I had an interview already set for this coming Friday. I came home nearly dancing with relief that it was over, and that I was free of that hell-hole. I expected reaction to set in later, with the “now what in H… do I do?” It hasn’t. I’ve simply done it. I got a case started over the weekend that?s been waiting, and prepared a bill to send to a twit who questioned why he should pay for my services when he bounced a paycheck to a friend. I got business cards ordered, and hung a bunch of pictures for my mom. I’ve assured my wonderful father in law that no, I will not answer the phone and help the folks at my former place of employment simply to be nice. He has assured me that he knows we’re doing our best, and that we have a safety net until we land back on our feet. That is an enormous relief. I’ve undertaken a grant-writing project, and part of what I get out of it is, essentially, an office. It’s not a traditional office by any stretch of anyone’s imagination, being as the company is a small biotech developer, and their space primarily a chemistry lab. But I have a place to get mail that isn’t my home, a conference room in which to meet clients if I wish, a desk, a bookcase, a key to come and go as I please, and congenial people with whom to work. (Thanks, Li. I love it when you scheme and plot.) I then called back the printer and added that address to the business cards. I will also fairly shortly be able to list scientific grant writing among my skills, and that one is both something I can do even if I have a day job, and potentially quite lucrative.

So there is the saga of the past four days. It’s been eventful, to say the least. I am so glad to have my energy and my life back I can’t begin to say. I haven’t needed the aforementioned tranquilizer since I walked out of the Job from Hades. I am stunned by the speed with which I’m back in business. And I’m proud of myself. Some people tried to squish me, and I didn’t squish. And tomorrow I’m going to start reading up on the subject for which I will be applying for grants, writing subcontracts, and generally handling the legal end of a business that really hasn’t had anyone doing that except for the patent work. It’s yet another branch of law. And you know what? That’s fine with me. Tally-ho!

I’ll talk about the details of the week when I have more time and less of a sleep-bug in my eyes. Short version, however, is that I am a free woman. I threw one spanner too many into the gearshift of a steamroller, and I am no longer employed. They didn’t wait to let me resign.

And you know what? I’m fine with that. I have an interview next week with the agency for which I actually want to work, a couple of lines on grant writing jobs, and some private legal work I’ve needed to get to for a while and now have not only time to do, but mental energy. I have a Freedom of Religion appeal I’ve taken just because that kind of intolerance from a judge annoys me. And I’ll have time to clean my house for Passover and – gasp – play with my kid without worrying about what won’t get done before the next work week. The axe has fallen, and what it cut through was the rope holding the weight on my shoulders. Look out world, I’m comin’ through!