I.... am certifyably STUPID. Oh yes, I am...

I got this letter from the unemployment office to go and apply for a job as receptionist at a BUNKER of an hotel. So today, my foot was half-way good. And I still have to use a cane to get around. So I got myself all spruced up, white shirt, tie, suit coat, whatever. And got on the bus and went out there. (You either go or they cut off your unemployment money, and I need a signature on the fucking form.) Using the bus was a nuisance. The distance from the bus stop to the hotel was long----if you have to use a cane. Dirty, hot day, humid. Disgusting.

So I humpled up into the lobby, and said, 'I have this letter here saying I have to apply for a receptionist job. Is it still open? I couldn't get here any sooner. I sprained my leg.' And all these twenty-something young things were in and out looking at my papers.

Do you have any papers, an official application, your life's experience, and a report from the people you worked for last?

Talk about feeling like getting pissed on. Not that I have, but I imagine it would be like that....

I said, 'No, but can I make an appointment?'

'Call, or do it per internet.' The head of the personnel dept. wasn't there today. Swell, I sweat blood getting there, and that was all I got an a card. Thirty two years ago, you could walk off the street after reading a want ad, get an interview, and that was ok... Now?

My very dear colleague had asked me on Sunday if I had gotten a report, and I said no, I had been too sick to even think of that. But I have to provide one. And yesterday, I had called my former place of business, and another 'good' colleague was on the horn, and when I asked him about it, he said, 'YOU talk to HER.' And I thought, 'no WAY.' He sounded frightened to even broach the subject with her. Which means she was way off the charts for rage about 'something'....

So I mailed the one person in Vienna of the bosses who seems to like me, and explained, and politely asked for one from THEM, in Vienna, not from Graz. I also let him know that what they 'thought' was best... wasn't. Am convinced they didn't know what would happen....

So that they will not do that to anyone else..... you know?

So far no answer, but he doesn't mail. But I hope to get one in my mail-box in a couple of days....

So NOW I have to prepare some papers, Preciousses. A Lebenslauf. (The story of your life in short form. Data, education, where you worked, etc.) And an official request to be a coolie for a pittance. (They pay shit, believe me...) But I fucking NEED that signature, so will have to get cracking.

Isn't life just FUCKING great.....

At least I didn't go into nerve fever or throw up.