So, I worked in furthest reaches of Dante's Inferno for several months, cursing my very existence, when I got up the courage to actually pursue my writing on a semi-professional level. (See below post regarding my sports writing at www.secwb.com). Although it allowed me to get the creative juices flowing again, I am somewhat limited in my subject choices (it's a website devoted to SEC women's basketball, so... yeah... I don't exactly have free license to post about local politics or the plethora of good movies coming out around the holidays). Anyway, despite it's necessary limitations, it was good to write again, especially about a subject on which I am somewhat conversant. In the meantime, I continued to gaze longingly at the bid board, praying for ANYTHING to come up that would get me out of this hell, when suddenly, I saw it: a job I had coveted for YEARS. In my little corner of the 'hood there exists a quaint little post office that is the smallest in all of Nashvegas, and said post office happens to be at the end of my street. Approximately 150 yards lie between my front door and the back door of this little outpost. Why hadn't I bid to this job before now, you might ask? Well, I had tried unsuccessfully in years past and been outbid, because this little PO is known affectionately as the retirement post office. It's such a great spot to work that most people go there and stay 'til they retire (or die, whichever comes first). Needless to say, positions there don't come up for bid often (about once every five years or so) and my seniority in times past wasn't enough to get me in the door, but something told me this time around might be different. So I placed my bid and waited with baited breath. Next thing you know, I find out IT'S MINE! I GOT THE JOB!!!

Now before you think I got to leave Dante's Den anytime soon, let me explain how things work at the big P.O. I had to first scheme qualify (for those not in the know, that translates to learning every street in my little zip code and memorizing which carrier delivers the mail to that particular street), and then after passing that test, I was mandated to pass a class that teaches me all the intricacies of being a window clerk. Surprisingly enough, there are a LOT of rules and regulations to serving customers across the window, moreso than just the common courtesies like not sneezing on anyone nor muttering expletives when they do the most heinous things, like belching in your face. "Service with a smile" -- that's our motto. (Well, it's really not, but it should be, since we're negatively scored by mystery shoppers if we don't greet our customers in a friendly manner. And don't EVEN get me started on THAT waste of time and moola. "Mystery shoppers" my big fat patootie.... AARRRGGGGHHHHH!) Actually, all the rules and regs are not so surprising since I DO work for a bureaucratic governmental red-tape-producing entity.

I was awarded the job in late March, and went to scheme training soon after. Since I've lived in that zip code all my life, training shoulda been a breeze. And it was, until I went to review for the test and there were discrepancies between the review material and the scheme I'd learned. Long story short, the scheme had changed over the past few years (streets added, names changed, carrier "splits", etc.) and I had been blissfully unaware that I'd spent four days learning the older incorrect scheme. No problem. Let's just start over on the new one and it'll be a breeze, too. Thank HEAVENS I had a great trainer who was wise enough to credit my training time to me in the proper way without me having to go all postal on him. I passed with flying colors and was all gung ho to get the window clerk training started. So I waited, and waited. And waited. And waited some more for the call or correspondence that would let me know when the next class would start. Now I'm an impatient sorta girl (bet you wouldn't have guessed that, now would ya?) so I commenced to calling the training office myself. Only problem with that is, not a single solitary soul in that overpaid/underworked office has a freakin' CLUE about scheduling training classes except for ONE GUY and he's out of the office for the next TWO WEEKS. I find it more than a little ridiculous that only one guy in the ENTIRE Mid-state area schedules training, and he's famous for two things: 1) spending an inordinant amount of time on the golf course and 2) NEVER returning phone calls. Makes him infinitely qualified for the job, don't you think? So I dug around a little and found out that there was a scheduled rate increase to take effect May 14 and they were dragging their collective feet about training anyone until after that date. Makes sense, but you COULDA TOLD ME instead of me having to snoop around like the man from U.N.C.L.E. to glean that valuable info. Of course, it's a two week training class, and CERTAINLY no one is going to schedule training that would conflict with Memorial Day, so ... you get the picture. This job I got in March? I finally got trained for in JUNE. And people wonder why we have rate increases? It's to pay the salary of the brainiacs who come up with such nonsense.

Okay... another attack of postal-induced indigestion is coming on, so I'll get all Zen for a moment and post more later...