I have in my wallet, in my bag, on the bed, my shiny, unused work permit. Elsewhere in my room in an undisclosed location, I have my temporary Social Security Number (they shout at you in ALL CAPS on the notice NOT to carry it around with you). But woohoo! After putting it off for a couple of weeks (well, not knowing that I needed a SSN), I have the ability to work AND the ability to get paid. Double score!
The process was surprisingly easy. I waltzed into this rather innocuous-looking shoebox of a room in some generic gov’t building downtown, expecting there to be angry guards with rottweilers, a massive line of sweaty people, no air conditioning, and surly civil servant behind dirty bars and bullet-proof glass.
But the whole thing was quick and painless. Surprisingly, it took less than a week to get my number, and the first thing I could think of was, “OMGWTFBBQ I can apply for credit cards and go SHOPPING!”. Shameful, I know, but there’s something about all this waiting around and not doing anything that makes a person antsy, like being a child finally let out to go play after being grounded.
At least I’ve been having a taste of how everyone else is dealing with looking for jobs. My husband doesn’t seem to be too worried, but I think he has more faith in my being able to support him than him doing that for me (since I’ve been supporting him throughout our whole relationship). But there’s a lot of pressure on me right now. Our rent is ridiculously high (the highest I’ve seen in this town – well, small city – and this is not a nice apartment or in a nice area. Way to rip off immigrants!), so there’a lot of pressure on me to be able to make enough to afford living here, and there’s no way that a minimum wage job is going to do that. It’s probable that we’ll have to leave here once our rental agreement becomes month-to-month, or maybe we could just have the utilities put in my name now that I have the paperwork to do it.
We have an interview tomorrow. It’s a little scary, but all I have to do is remain calm. I have nothing to hide, but these sorts of formal environments terrify me to the point where I’ll babble and accidentally say something stupid or embarrassing, or something that will be taken the wrong way.
Maybe if I had a credit card and a Wii I would be able to resolve some of this stress with video games.