Well, knock my socks off, color me tickled pink, and pop the cork on the champagne bottle! Ed just successfully closed negotiations on a 3-week kitchen refinishing project.
On Saturday, January 3, he'll pick up a check for a 50% down payment and start work. Now, it's just one gig, and it's not a huge one, so he'll keep working nights at Walmart, but here's hoping that this gig is the raindrop that starts the flood that ends the almost-4-month dry spell.
Meanwhile, Ed had good prospects for a part-time job with Peapod, a grocery-delivery service that would pay better than Walmart (through customer tips), offer a better work schedule, and offer him a chance to work for managers who don't demoralize their employees. He'd already worked for Peapod once before, for a short while, until he tore an Achilles tendon back on Super Tuesday, so the company is already familiar with him and likes his work ethic. Here's the weird unfinished story about that potential job:
The interviewer told Ed that he wanted to hire him but that first Ed had to pass a urine drug test and a physical exam. Ed took the drug test; the physical exam was supposed to be scheduled after the drug test results came in. But days and days passed, and no phone call. Ed called the interviewer, who said, Don't worry; as soon as human resources passes along the results to me, we'll move things along. But then more days passed, and no phone call. Ed called again, to see what was up and to make sure that the guy knew that he was still interested in the job. The guy said that if Ed had flunked the drug test, he'd have been notified right away. Then he added that it was odd, but he was waiting on drug test results for several other potential drivers too, and those hadn't shown up. He said he'd look into it. No phone call for several days; by this point, it was almost Christmas. Ed called one more time, and the guy said, What—you don't think I'd call you if I had the results?! So Ed figures that (1) someone bungled things and lost a large group of test results, (2) it's right before New Year's and no one in management is going to do anything about the situation during the holidays, and (3) he can't call the interviewer any more without seriously pissing him off. It's a mystery.
So anyway, I'm much more inclined now to shout, "Happy New Year!" In 2009, may you all receive heaping helpings of joy, peace, friendship, and meaningful and financially worthwhile work ... and earn at least enough to keep a roof over your head and get the medical care you need.
economy recession underemployed husband cabinetmaker Happy New Year EditorMom