Sunday, November 30, 2008

Thanksgiving...indeed.



Last week before we left for Boise was a rough day. I went back to work one more day at the temp job after an appointment with DHS for food stamps. That was a sentence I never thought I would type. But there I was, sitting for over two hours eavesdropping on conversations about friends that appeared on the Jerry Springer show, proudly refusing free day old Starbucks muffins in a room that seemed to suck the sunshine out of my life with every passing minute. Finally my name was called by a grandma type who seemed more disciplinarian than friendly. One half of her cubicle was covered in poodle pictures cut out of calendars; the other half was all Nascar. I was left alone while she was making copies, and I spent most of my time picturing Glenda (yes, that was her name) at home surrounded by poodles, a nascar race while crocheting an afghan. After she came back, she tapped her acrylic nails and wanted to confirm that my husband was an immigrant. I responded that he was in fact a citizen, but we do have a savings account with Emmigrant. My good grammar must have swayed her because I left with a card in my hand. Which I guess is a good thing. I'm having a hard time getting used to government aid.

Anyway, I went back to work in the reject cubicle (the girl I was subbing for came back...I tried to ignore her co-workers' exclamations of joy) and finished my day by laminating hundreds of tiny things. I was about to leave when I looked down at my wool sweater dress and realized I had brushed against a newly retouched wall. I saw the sage green streak and loudly yelled a choice word ("shiz"--it was my last day, after all). Serendipitously I had an extra dress in my backseat, changed in the parking lot, and took my dress to an eco-friendly dry cleaner, where I was given a 50% survival rate for my dress.

Adding to that the fact that I found out I only took home 60% of my actual temp wage, Thanksgiving could not have come at a better time. Early Christmas, pumpkin pie, thrifting, and little Reese put that day far in the past.

2 comments:

The Smiths said...

That day sucks....sorry. But we are excited to see you guys soon!

Megan said...

Temp job can kiss it.