Can a sista get a check around here?!? | New blog by T. Hobbs

August 5, 2008

I work as a behaviorist with special needs kids. Yes, someone entrusted me with the task of helping children embrace normality.

Laugh all you want, but I’ve managed to do it for almost 2 years now, and I love it.

Here’s the thing:

Your hours are dependent upon your child’s attendance. For example, if little Timmy doesn’t come to school on Thursday, his behaviorist doesn’t get paid. And there’s no way to make up those lost hours. When little Timmy is present, it’s all good. But when he’s not, it’s a bi***.

Getting my drift?

Well, summer is no exception, and like many others, I’ve now found myself out of work for the entire month of August. After talking to moms and my honey, I decided to seek unemployment so I could get some sort of income coming in so I don’t have to start “doin somethin strange for a little piece of change”. Yea, it’s that bad.

ANYWAY! So 3 weeks ago I access the website (which I’m not linking to because it’s a piece of sh*t), follow their procedure, and apply for benefits. I was scheduled for a phone interview to see just why my broke ass needs the assistance, and 1 week later they call and I MISS THE CALL! Hell! I was handling a kid and they called private and I DO NOT answer private calls (feel me?).

So I check the message and it’s clearly someone in a faraway land mumbling to me about how I am “terminated”. Shit! And then the people had the nerve to send me letters reiterating that I was denied. I already knew that, thank you! Jerks.

For the next 2 weeks, all the way up until yesterday, I called their

office- at 8am, at 1pm, at 3:37pm, at 4:26pm- it didn’t matter! No one ever answered! Where were all the people??? Then, it hit me- California’s economy IS in a recession and unemployment rates are on the rise. Governor Terminator has cut government jobs as a ploy to encourage state officials to create and subsequently balance the budget, and there is NOONE to answer my call *LINK http://www.latimes.com/news/local/valley/la-fi-noanswer9apr09,0,6412485.story*.

Discouraged and highly pissed, I decided to just haul my booty in to the actual office to speak to a real, live person.

So today, Tuesday, I gear up to go in. My mother had already warned me that I better pack a lunch and a book because I’d probably be waiting for hours. Great. But before I left the house, I decided to give it one more shot. I called them AGAIN, expecting to be hanged up on- AGAIN.

Well, someone answered! Was this for real?? I hadn’t been drinking (I try to wait until after 12pm), so I know I wasn’t hallucinating.

I told the very impatient lady what my deal was and that I’d been denied, but desperately needed the money and could she help me, blah blah blah.

Transfered. Damnit. And I was on a roll.

And then, things took a turn for the worse. Jesus be a translator, because I couldn’t understand 1/4 of what this man was saying to me! So I hit him with a lot of “can you repeat that” and “I’m sorry”, which only seemed to piss him off even more which made his accent that much thicker and unintelligeable (look it up).

And all I wanted to say was “Speak english!!” but I figured that’d be rude and I needed my moneeeey. After a few minutes, the man told me that I’d have to file an appeal and then MAIL it in, which would then be reviewed by a judge and if overturned, then I’d see a check. Anything is better than nothing, I kept telling myself to keep from throwing my already broken sidekick through the wall. Damn POS phone. Oh, and “we have to receive it by August 7″, he says. WTF!? Thank you and goodbye man who needs to brush up on his english. So I get to filling out the appeal and stating why if I don’t receive this money, I’m gonna have to resort to picking up the stripper’s ones at the Right Track (don’t judge).

It was 4:53 and I hightailed it over to the post office that closed at 5, just making it, and sending my letter down the mailbox with a hope and a dream. Now, I wait. And if you see me this month standing at Slauson and Crenshaw selling some incense and socks with my USC education, you’ll know what happened.

Pray for me, y’all!

Hugs and Kisses,

T. Hobbs