Technology has changed the way people look for work. It was made abundantly clear to me that is the case today as Thomas was able to complete several applications online without ever once seeing a living, breathing, blood-flowing-through-some-veins person.
In the interest of job seekers, I'm sure their pajama and bathrobe clad selves also appreciate the updated technology improvements since that pesky 6 am shower routine is no longer needed and they don't have to change out of their Mr. Bun-Bun t-shirt or matching slippers in any hurry. It also removes the unpleasant face-to-face aspect until the online apps are sifted for quality before any potential telephone calls are made to applicant wanna be's.
They need not know what you actually look like until you show up at their door for an actually pre-scheduled interview, potentially bathed, groomed and dressed in something besides your favorite M&M pajama pants with the hole in the butt.
But then again, online applications can bring up a host of other issues. As Thomas was applying today, one of the positions was a slot as a delivery driver, he needed his wallet for some further information. He asked me to go get it for him.
Yeah, Ace. I'll just do that.
Oh, wait... my foot and ankle are in an air-cast and my crutches are across the room from me since I'm sitting in a rolling office chair.
I'll just roll along and get it... but soft - a complication rears its ugly head... the chair WON'T ROLL ON CARPET.
A maniacally evil laugh began. "Oh yes it will, muuuahahahahahahahahaha!"
Then, Mephistopheles - also known as my son, said kindly, "You can fish for it!"
"With what?" I asked him. "My crutches and the elastic from my underwear? Shall I yank out a filling, pound and hammer it down to form a hook also?"
At this point he was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and decided to get up and go get his wallet for himself.
The visual of me trying to angle in a homemade contraption to retrieve the wallet from his desk still lurks at the corner of my mind. I now wonder if it would be possible to do it, minus the underwear elastic fishing line and dental filling hook...
Does this mean I need to get out more... or less?
Will the kindly people who collect those unfortunate souls who carry on private conversations with themselves come and find me next?
I'm afraid if they men in the little white coats came, I'd go with them without hesitation. They'd probably be sorry they'd picked me up in 15-minutes or less. Perhaps they'd return me to my home at that point.
Should you happen to be out by the river and see me fishing, please make sure that I have an actual fishing rod, Stren fishing line on said rod, and most important of all - please insure that I am not trying to reel in a wallet.
Just another day in paradise...
