Sometimes when someone loses one's job, one calls up the Department of Labor & Industry so as to extend one's hand in a manner equivalent to begging for money. I did this for a while. And now, my claiming period is over so I needed to call to re-open my claim otherwise I shall have no more money dripping into my bank account.
They ask a barrage of questions:
DLI: This is X, thank you for playing the "20,000 Useless Questions So That You Can Claim Your Unemployment" game. How may I help you?
Me: Hello fun & friendly unemployment person. I need to extend my claim which expired a few days ago.
DLI: What was your reason for no longer working at X?
Me: None of your business. Next question please.
DLI: What is the capital of Columbia?
Me: Bogota. I'll take sciences for 100.
DLI: On the Periodic Table, what is the element for mercury?
ME: Hg. I'll take international politics for 400.
DLI: Who is the current president of Iceland?
Me: Olafur Grimsson. Now how long will it take for my claim to be processed and approved?
DLI: What is the gestation period for an elephant?
Me: Silly woman, I hail from deepest, darkest Africa. The gestation period for an elephant is 22 months.
DLI: Try filing online on Sunday. Hopefully your application will be approved by then. Good bye.
Me: WAIT! I have a ... hello?
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Umteen amazing reasons why I love the suburbs
Don't get me wrong, I'm a city boy, born and bred. Loud honking tonking noises, gas and fumes, shit and vomit. Nothing beats the city lifestyle. Or so I thought.
More and more, I've been taking strolls around the pretty little neighborhood I live in. And now that it's summer (really??), the trees are in bloom, the grass has come back to life as if by some miracle of God, and things just look great dammit!
People out in the 'burbs tend to want to look after their front lawns. A well-manicured lawn, I guess, is much like a t-shirt. Don't ask me to explain, I'm not in the mood. Either way, nice green lawns, kids screaming, cars driving at the speed limit, little white picket fences.
Sunday mornings, while most of my friends in the city would either still be sleeping or nursing hang overs, the 'burbanites are out in full force with their lawn mowers, neatly trimming the hedges, raking up the grass, sprinkling fertilizer, and giving it all a light sprinkle with the garden hose. And all this before showering up, putting on their Sunday best, piling the rug rats into the car, and heading off to church.
It's like a toy town. And I watch in amazement. Sometimes I even get swept up in the whole 'burban thing and mow the lawn myself.
Try doing that while living in the concrete jungle!
More and more, I've been taking strolls around the pretty little neighborhood I live in. And now that it's summer (really??), the trees are in bloom, the grass has come back to life as if by some miracle of God, and things just look great dammit!
People out in the 'burbs tend to want to look after their front lawns. A well-manicured lawn, I guess, is much like a t-shirt. Don't ask me to explain, I'm not in the mood. Either way, nice green lawns, kids screaming, cars driving at the speed limit, little white picket fences.
Sunday mornings, while most of my friends in the city would either still be sleeping or nursing hang overs, the 'burbanites are out in full force with their lawn mowers, neatly trimming the hedges, raking up the grass, sprinkling fertilizer, and giving it all a light sprinkle with the garden hose. And all this before showering up, putting on their Sunday best, piling the rug rats into the car, and heading off to church.
It's like a toy town. And I watch in amazement. Sometimes I even get swept up in the whole 'burban thing and mow the lawn myself.
Try doing that while living in the concrete jungle!
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