Tuesday, October 01, 2013

Archer Updates...

I have been slow to blog for a while now, due to some personal issues. I got laid off from my job (you can directly thank Obamacare), so I have been beating the bushes for jobs and unemployment benefits. With my penchant for running into incompetent bureaucrats, let's just say the latter has been a blessing that I hope I may never be blessed with again. Case in point: after being told it may take up to 6 weeks to process my unemployment benefits and then there is a waiting week where I file for unemployment but no benefits "are ever paid during this period," I figure I'll be at least a month into my next job before the government gets around to actually doing its job. The good news is I am virtually certain I will be offered a job today. It's a bit of a commute, but I think small business/private enterprise is a better job for me than being a desk jockey filing medical claims, which is a whole other level of bureaucracy.

This is not to say bureaucracy scares me. I think it is more accurate to say I scare bureaucracy. Another case in point: I had an appointment scheduled with the local department of labor office to go over benefits and such. I show up at the appointed time. It is a small office of about 10 cubicles and a receptionist. I walk up to the receptionist and say I have an appointment. She looks at me like I'm nuts and says, "Well, we usually don't make appointment. Who are you seeing?"

I realize I had left my note that I had scribbled on the desk at my home, and I said, "I don't remember. I think it starts with 'M.'"

To this, the receptionist says, "Well, we don't have anybody like that here. Come back when you can give me a name."

To which I said, "There's like 10 cubicles here, only 5 of which are occupied right now. Can't you just call back there and ask who has an appointment?"

"Against procedure," she says, emphatically shaking her head.

The Troubler of Israel Bureaucracy (yours truly) was not about to be stopped by that, so I walk back behind the counter, to the horror of the receptionist, and walk down the line asking, "Do you have an appointment at 9:30?" I finally find the lady who does, and, lo and behold, her name is Michelle, which to my feeble mindedness would seem to start with "M."

Problem solved, though I doubt I will ever see a dime of unemployment after that escapade.

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