Back to Work

I guess starting any new job is stressful. The transition for this one has seemed particularly so. The last two weeks, my time has been split between the DeFuniak Springs and the Crestivew offices of JobsPlus. Ashly was hired at the same time, so we spent three days of "training" together -- mostly watching Jerri, our "trainer," talk on the phone and do data entry. To give Jerri credit, she's been carrying three case loads and we started at the end of the month when all the reports and closures were due. She did her best. Still, it was annoying. Nothing like starting a new job and feeling that you're not getting enough info to, well, get started.

My title is Career Counselor, but I'll basically be enrolling customers in either/and the WIA/BEST programs, both of which provide funds for training, tools, licensing, etc. There's a lot of paperwork and not all of it makes sense yet. My office in DeFuniak, "the little hole" as Jerri calls it, is cluttered with colored folders and piles of documents that need to be filed. One of the things about this job that seems eeriely familiar to what I did for DESI is the employment verifications. Also the follow ups. Customers (not clients, here) in the BEST program get six months of follow up calls; WIA customers get a year's worth. Calling to see if they are employed. If you can't reach the customer, calling the former listed employer. If there's no employer, asking someone with access to pull the UC (unemployment compensation) screen to see if there are reportable wages in the previous quarter. And so on.

Do I like my new job? I don't know yet. Maybe it's too soon to tell. I have a two month "trial" period to do a test drive (same goes for WCI, the company that administers services through the FL one-stops). Maybe by that time I'll know what I'm doing and will be on my way to mastering my small corner of the working universe. We'll see.

We took a break on Thursday afternoon for some wacky training. It was advertised as "compassionate" training, but turned out to be about stress reduction and burnout. Boy, talk about timing. Finally, I thought, here's some information I can use. The guy who presented the training was a clown; no, really, he used to work for the circus and had insider's stories about Emmett Kelly. Now he's a chaplain and jokes about having the largest (dead) church in the world. I found all this personal background far more interesting than the actual training which used props like balloon animals, a bicycle horn and a rubber chicken. He kept giving us "illustrations" to back up what he was saying, but nobody I was with could make the connection. I felt really dumb, but I wasn't the only one, so maybe I wasn't so dumb. Maybe I was just stressed out. Maybe the training was making me more stressed out because I didn't understand what he was saying and he might as well have been speaking Martian. It all made my head hurt.

Going back to work, changing my schedule, adapting to a new job. I miss my walks in the mornings. I seem to have headaches every day. I started dozing on the couch at 8 o'clock one night and slept through an entire episode of Stargate SG-1. Things will get better. The transitions in life are always toughest, I've found. It is nice to come home in the evening and have my husband cook dinner for us. It's nice to put on my sweats and know that nothing more will be expected from me for that particular day. And, I'm meeting new people, maybe making new friends.

Last night, for Date Night, we went to Hooters for dinner, then to the ballgame in Crestview. I have to say something good about Hooters but it won't have anything to do with the ugly orange polyester "uniforms" the female servers wear. My brother-in-law Randy took us out to Hooters in Shreveport and I was fully prepared to hate the experience, mostly because of the ugly uniforms. But, I tried the Buffalo Chicken Sandwich and I was won over. Ed and Randy ate a 50-piece wing platter that night and Ed was hooked. There's something in the sauce. We usually get the "hot" which is spicy, but nothing like the "3 mile island" (so we've been told, never tried it). There's a vinegary twang that makes the sauce particularly lip-smacking good, and it's addictive. Like Indian food (the kind from India), there's something in the spices. I haven't tried the New Orleans style shrimp or the big burger or the Philly steak and cheese (all they serve is pub food at this place) because I tried the Buffalo Chicken Sandwich first and got stuck at that point on the menu. Anyone else who has been to Hooters (and who will admit it) can feel free to advise me on other menu items. Buffalo Chicken Sandwich (not healthy for you): big ol' fried breast of chicken smothered in hot wing sauce on a squishy yellow bun with a wing of lettuce and a slice of tomato. Don't forget the ranch dressing for dipping.

Anyway, I wanted to go to the ballgame last night because I thought it would be something different to do for Date Night, also because I wanted to see the Crestview band. I was in the Big Red Machine all three years I was in high school and it was the best, the most positive experience I had in school. I could fill a whole nuther entry with memories about band, so I'll save that. I'll just say that going to see the band dredged up a lot of good memories last night. There are a lot more kids in the Big Red Machine these days, probably 200 or more, and they have snazzy new uniforms. The Mosley band took the field first at half time and they were okay, just okay. But when the Crestview band came on, there were awesome. And they didn't do their whole show because they were honoring the senior band members last night. I was so disappointed. I got chills when they took the field and played the fight song. I probably would have teared up and bawled if they'd done their half time show. Even though I didn't see the show, I can tell the band was not only bigger, but better, than Back in the Day. That made me proud in a strange way. My old band director, David Cadle, is still in charge, tho I didn't see him last night. He wouldn't remember me anyway. I really was a terrible clarinet player. I'm thankful they just allowed me to be in the band and go on all the trips.

The Crestview Bulldogs are in the District playoffs and will meet Milton in Crestview next Friday night. If I can get tickets, I might be able to persuade my husband to go with me again, just to see the band's half time show. If I miss it, I'll have to catch them on TV. They're going to be in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, the official "Santa" band that plays right before the fat guy with the beard. I was in the band not long after Mr Cadle became the director. I knew he was a demanding, perfectionist ass, but I also sensed he was brillant. Crestivew now even has its own band contest every October, the North Florida Classic.

I think the Bulldogs won last night. We left in the third quarter and they had a hefty lead against Mosley. I saw my uncle Brenton, aunt Barbara and cousin Kevin at the game. I can't remember when I saw them last, so that was a pleasant surprise. Ed got a back of boiled peanuts and that made him happy. I did see one of my old band buddies, but didn't get to speak to her. My husband says welcome back to the place where everywhere you go you're related to someone or they know you. What can I say?

A few weeks ago, I found my grandmother's stash of recipe books. I had great fun looking through them and reading some of the strange and bizarre recipes. Like the one for whole possum. I kid you not. It was in a book my grandmother had picked up in the Ozarks years ago; I do not believe she ever cooked whole possum, tho she admits to liking hogshead cheese. She has a small three ring binder with recipes she chose herself, written out in pale blue ink in her spidery hand. That's the most precious of the collection. Why am I not surprised to see that her recipes for desserts outnumber anything else? She has the original sweet tooth in this family. She had been talking about the grandchildren putting their names on things they wanted when she passes away. Wouldn't it be weird, I thought, to walk around your house and have all your stuff tagged with someone's name on it? She didn't mean that literally, I guess. My cousin Travis wants the picture of the cheese, a printed kitchen towel my grandmother bought in France and had framed. I thought that was a odd choice. I told my grandmother that I'd like to have her collection of recipe books. She said that would be all right. I'm not going to put my name on it, but we both know.