MFA Mama

GOOD NEWS!

*   I have a job!

*   The job is through Temp Agency #1, non-physically demanding, full-time, pays pretty well, and starts Monday. No idea on duration yet, but at the very least this should help us get our feet back under us and let me secure individual health insurance once more. Yay!

*   I have to cultivate a "professional appearance" over the weekend on a shoestring budget, which will involve doing my roots, spending some time at Goodwill shopping for business-y clothes that fit, and probably lots of wailing and gnashing of teeth.

*   Happy Friday! 

*   How are all of YOU? 

my anaconda don't want none...

...UNLESS YOU'VE GOT BUNS, HON!

   Everyone in the comments of the previous post and on Twitter agrees:

Figure One: Smart lady!

   "They're all wrong!" Hotter insisted.

   So I sent him a picture from Kroger:

Figure Two: BUNS.

   "This is the South. Y'all are ignant," he replied. "I WENT TO THE CULINARY INSTITUTE OF AMERICA."

   So yeah, Hotter decided to go down with his ship, and we're having hot dogs for dinner.

P.S. Hotter says he never did like any of us. 

I'm right, you're wrong!

   Enough about how we're all going to die if I don't find a job. Let's talk about something REALLY important. Marinka of Motherhood in NYC has a regular feature on her blog called "I'm right, you're wrong" that I'm totally hijacking borrowing today.

   My recent unemployment has allowed for Hotter and me to spend lots and lots of time together. It's great when we're doing things like sleeping in with the dog and all four of her stiff, stabby-clawed legs between us and having sex, but not so much when we're talking about what to make for dinner, because one of us is fundamentally wrong here. You be the judge!

The Dilemma: What do you call those bread-things you put your hotdog inside?

The disagreers: MFA Mama, a.k.a. The Voice of Reason, and Hotter, a.k.a. Mr. I Went To Culinary School But Still Don't Know What Those Bread-things Are Called.

The positions:

1. We are out of hot dog rolls, so we can't have hot dogs for dinner because the kids hate it when we use slices of bread.

2. We are out of hot dog buns, so we can't have hot dogs for dinner because the kids hate it when we use slices of bread.

   What say you?

now what?

   I think I've applied for every job within feasible travel radius that I am even remotely qualified for. Monster, Snagajob, Craigslist, and the local paper have run out of new ideas for me. I'm still working my ass off for Temp Agency #2, and spoke with Temp Agency #1 today (they found a part-time job I'm qualified for, although I ultimately decided to pass since I need something full-time, either through them or something I find on my own, and this gig would have run mid-May through October...that didn't seem fair to the client since I'd totally bail if I got a full-time offer during that time...I do however have another one-off gig I'm working for them this coming Saturday).

   I'm a little worried about what to wear to job interviews. I've lost twenty-two pounds in the past couple of months so everything is baggy (including my bras--I may be reduced to stuffing for the interview next week), and my roots are pretty heinous but I don't want to spend the money on a box of hair color. Or should I? I don't even know if they'll notice that. 

   Meanwhile back at the ranch, I'm freaking out about the whole "no health insurance" thing. Hotter has Medicare, and the boys are covered by their father's insurance; it's just me with nothing. I've been able to stop taking Nexium without any ill effects as long as I avoid gluten, and I do miss Mirapex, but not enough to pay out of pocket. So it's just Pristiq and Synthroid I'm still on. I can't afford to sign up for an individual plan currently, so everyone cross their fingers that my lungs behave and I don't do any worse than break my stupid toe for the next...however long.

   We have less than $100 to our names, and no end in sight. It's terrifying. A kind friend sent us a box of groceries from Amazon.com, but pretty soon we're going to start running out of things, and I have no idea what we'll do.

   Please post funnies and pick-me-ups in the comments, if you've seen any good ones. I'm trying hard not to succumb to depression right about now and keep telling myself that we've always found a way to manage before, but I'm really worried.

back to the bright side

   Today I am looking on the bright side and saying that while I broke the SHIT out of my middle toe, and also sliced it open, at least the slice runs vertically up the SIDE of the nail and so I am not likely to lose the nail.

   And eating a chocolate cupcake, a powdered donut, a chocolate-chip cookie, and two rugelach from my box of Katz Gluten-Free goodies has helped to dull the pain.

   Onward!

in which WellsFargo kicks us while we're down

   I deposited $300 in cash yesterday, which I withdrew from Hotter's individual account where his disability checks go (why? Because he likes for us to pay $12 in fees every month to withdraw the money from an out-of-state bank at a local ATM, it makes him happy somewhere deep in his soul, to the point that he's willing to fight with me EVERY SINGLE MONTH ABOUT IT), to cover checks I wrote yesterday, and today? Wellsfucking Fargo charged us FOUR overdraft fees, because apparently cash isn't good enough for them and the deposit is still marked as "pending" in their system.
   So I just had the pleasure of breaking down in ugly snotty tears on the phone with Wells Fargo, who initially told me it wasn't their problem, then amended that to "well, how about we refund HALF?" Because hey, great, then Hotter will only reject ONE donor organ and I can maybe feed 1.5 of my kids! I asked them what they were going to do next, come to my house and take my dog? They finally decided to refund three of the four $35 fees, which I guess is good, but when $35 is a third of your total net worth and you don't have any hope of anything coming in any time soon that fucking hurts.
   I hate Wells Fargo. HATE them. I swear, every time I think it can't get any worse, they bend us over and screw us, no lube. And as soon as it stops raining here I'm going to walk to the nearest branch office (yeah, the Beater is...not so good) and close the damn account.
   I...am done. I'm just done. This whole situation is just hopeless. 

Pollyanna

   Last night I was chatting with a friend of mine about how awesome Temp Agency #2 is. "If I keep working jobs for them at the rate I am, it'll be about equal to what I would've gotten from Unemployment," I gushed. "So you guys'll be okay then," she asked, hopefully. "Um. Well. I crunched the numbers when I got the initial letter from Unemployment, and with that plus the child support and Hotter's disability we'll be able to squeak by for a couple of months if need be, as long as nobody except the children eats and nobody except Hotter takes any prescription drugs. And he probably gets enough protein from the gel-coatings of various capsules and tablets to sustain life, so things are looking up," I said. "Um..." she typed. "SHUT UP, it's better than a week ago when we were going to get evicted and NOBODY was going to have any food or prescription drugs! This is a POSITIVE thing."

   Just call me Pollyanna.

yay and boo of the day

YAY: Guess who has two tits and a job interview next week? Okay well technically I have the tits now, but...damn. I ruined it, didn't I?

BOO: Not only did the Hotel California not give me the six hours of PTO I requested a good week before the parting of the ways on my last paycheck, but they also deducted the full cost of two weeks' benefits from my last paycheck...which was dated four days AFTER my last day of employment with them. Fuckers. That kind of took me all the way back down from "Temp Agency #2! Job Interview! WHOO TITS!" to "I'm going to die alone, in a cardboard box under a bridge."

   What are YOUR yays and boos from today?

Temp Agency #2

   When I first started temping, I was involved with more than one agency. More recently, it's been down to just one, which I have referred to since Winter 2011 as "Temp Agency #1." I heart them. They're positive, upbeat, and they don't care about my stupid blog. I still work for them. I did a job for them on Saturday. LOVE.

   But now...well. I'm kind of cheating on them. With a new job that, to keep it simple, we'll just start calling Temp Agency #2. An innernet friend and reader turned friend of the MFAmily referred me to Temp Agency #2 about a month ago, and I signed up but didn't actually take on any jobs, because at the time I was busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest with my full-time job. But...we all know how THAT ended up going. Temp Agency #2 is a 24-hour operation wherein employees work from home. It pretty much monetizes that thing I do when I'm panicking about money and aimlessly search the innernet at all hours. And so late Saturday night I started accepting jobs from Temp Agency #2, and I can't say enough good things about them, y'all. They're FUNNY. An employer with a sense of HUMOR? BRB, just gotta decide where on my body to tattoo the logo.

   All day Sunday I worked little jobs from Temp Agency #2 in between filling out job applications (I hate to quote Dr. Phil, but I am of the belief that if you do not have a job, your full-time job UNTIL you have a job is to FIND a job, and since I am accustomed to working weekends I have been plugging away steadily), and I am hooked.

   Temp Agency #2's user interface is so slick and easy to use! Temp Agency #2's training materials are hilarious! Temp Agency #2 + MFA Mama = TRU <3 4EVAR. If they offered benefits I would make them my full-time job and never look back.

   Sadly, Temp Agency #2 doesn't offer benefits. But they just might give me a way to keep my family afloat until I find another job that does, and that? IS A BEAUTIFUL THING.

in which I will eat my feelings as soon as UPS Ground permits, and invite you to join me

   Hey there my chickens. I got some disheartening news yesterday from Unemployment; my erstwhile employer seems to have a strong desire to go scorched-earth with this enire situation, which...well. While I can't say it was unexpected, it WAS unwelcome. And depressing. In a "if I can't find a job in the next couple of weeks things are going to get REALLY ugly around here" kind of way. I mean, there's a phone hearing scheduled where everybody gets to say their piece, and people are urging me to try to claim "whistleblower protection" (umyeah, I noticed several federal labor law violations and brought them up to management through the "open-door policy" right before they suddenly, after two merit-based increases in a row and a glowing review less than a month ago, decided I sucked at life in general and my job in particular) (and that's not EVEN the part I can't tell you due to pending investigations) and there's a CHANCE I could still prevail, but I'm really hoping to find another job before the hearing date. Mostly because I really need another job, but also because I just don't even want to deal with these effers. I'm so very disappointed in the company I worked for, y'all, you don't even know.

   BUT! A very generous and all-around awesome reader gifted me a Groupon to this AMAZING gluten-free bakery, an actual honest-to-Moses gluten-free JEWISH bakery, with gluten-free rugelach and hamantaschen and challah and OH MY G-D I THINK I JUST HEARD MY SCALE CRY OUT IN TERROR!* I placed my order just moments ago, and I can't WAIT for it to get here. Said awesome reader is also of Jewish extraction and gluten-free, and assures me that the baked goods are as good as they look in the pictures, which...well...oh my.

Figure One: I...need a moment alone with this image. Image borrowed from Katz Gluten-Free bakery's website.

   As soon as I placed the order, I got a happygram in my in-box welcoming me to the fold, with a share-able referral link for anyone who might be interested. If you buy through this link, you get 35% off your first order, and I get a $10 credit, so it's win/win. 

   That's my good news/bad news for the day. How about you?

 

* Kidding. I've lost seven pounds in the past six days on what I am tentatively calling the "OMG WE'RE ALL GONNA DIIIIIIIET!" Which it's probably ten kinds of sad that that gives me a little thrill, but at the moment I'll take what I can get.