If you’ve never been unemployed (good for you!) then you might not be aware that one of the annoying conditions of keeping your unemployment checks coming along is the occasional required class or seminar.
These classes are designed for people who haven’t had to update their resume, look for a job, or use the internet for a loooong time.
They are not appropriate for, say, me.
Alas, this is where I’ve been for the last six hours.
Naturally — class started with Icebreakers.
Which I despise.
We got to interview our neighbors, and then introduce them to the class. (Jennifer, in case you were wondering, used to be a Prosecution Assistant to the Carroll County States Attorney, she prides herself on her attention to deal, she hates it when people gossip, and she once worked as a Radio DJ.)
The instructor kept a running list of everyone’s previous job titles. The award for most unexpected?
Gravedigger. (and yes, he was exactly what you might expect…)
Second place? Picking up bodies/parts donated to science.
I, of course, ended up sitting around the class clowns (which was random, and accidental — we’re just drawn to each other, I guess) The odd man out was the Gravedigger, who didn’t really seem to know what was happening.
Anyway — the instructor asked everyone to imagine a door. Behind that door is the one thing/job you wouldn’t do unless it was absolutely necessary to survive.
The woman across from me says, “Prostitution.”
I like her immediately.
But the instructor thinks she answered, “prosecution,” and goes on this long, drawn out tangent about how it’s not really feasible to sue anyone and everyone to make a living.
Uhhh, no. We’re talking about sex? For money? You know, the oldest profession?
Sheesh. Worst career counselor, ever.
I spent the majority of my time making to-do lists, and then editing all the handouts. They were riddled with typos, seriously.
They should just hire me to proofread for them.