Thursday January 20, 2011
Today I had an orientation scheduled with Remedy Staffing, the same place that found Randy's last job at Harbinger Lighting. It wrenched my heart to see Harbinger listed on their wipe-off board as needing a new employee. I'd been expecting something like that, so hopefully I hid my emotions well enough. After all, this was supposed to be just a "get to know the company, fill out the paperwork, etc" sort of day where I was just a name on a stack of paperwork.
Yes, they knew who I was. That fact was immediately clear. While they were polite enough not to point, it was obvious they were flummoxed I actually showed up ready to get a job.
They treated me normally during the orientation, which pleased me very much. I was impressed with the professionalism they showed. The paperwork, DVD on safety, and the test that followed was –as to be expected—tedious. However, it's part of the process and I was glad to simply be a face in the crowd.
When it was my turn to speak with the Remedy agent, I was again pleased to speak to the same young lady that Randy had spoken so highly of. When Miss T (pseudonym for her own protection) heard I was willing to do data entry, loan processing, and call centers, she whisked me off for a data entry test, which I aced in under 5 minutes. However, I knew I was a tag-end addition. Sure, my heart rose in hope. I was permitted to watch the video, take another test, and go to the drug test. As far as I know, I passed all the criteria.
Apparently, it wasn't enough. I was still a tagalong, stuck on at the end. I got a phone call this afternoon, saying that the company has decided to delay the project by several days or several weeks. The length of delay is unknown.
I hate to say it this way, but I've played temp worker before. I've been lied to with the best of intentions before, and I don't blame the agents trying to find the unwashed and unemployed masses a job. They'd probably slit their own wrists if they had to deal with all the desperate emotions or know their potential employees as more than names on resumes. I've got a soft heart under this leather-clad exterior.
Do I want to believe there's merely a delay, and I'll be employed soon? Yes, because I'm just as desperate as all the other people losing their homes, getting their electricity cut off, and wondering how they're going to live.
I'm more worried for Dante than myself. I can go live with my mother, but he's too young to live in the retirement community. Technically, I am too, but I can officially claim I'm there to take care of my 70-year-old mother. I can squeak by because I'm family, but they won't bend the rules for the daughter AND her much-younger roommate. That won't fly, even if we all shoehorned into Mom's tiny guestroom.
All I can do is keep trying. I'll keep fighting until the day they cut off my electricity and toss my butt on the street. What else can I do?
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