by Leslee Kulba
Wild West blogger
I am beginning to sympathize with the hosts of the unemployed. Having searched for four days, I am now sick of signing worthless regulatory papers. Today, I spent three and a half hours at one place signing my name to documents promising not to grab a fire extinguisher in the event of a fire, not to treat even the slightest cut on my finger, etc., etc. One must call one’s supervisor so they can document the incident – let your coworker go up in flames. Those regulators really want to turn us into a bunch of babies, don’t they? But then, I sort of like the paperwork; if only an hour of forms were required at each agency, I would have had to go to the bathroom eight times, and that would have been difficult. Too bad staggering, drooling, and stuttering with hazy, unfocused eyes is considered profiling.
Well, I landed a third-shift temporary gig for a week, but I have to buy a couple pairs of jeans. Speaking of which, Ashevillian Libby Lagadi is fasting until $100,000 is raised to help people who are trying to get a job but get railroaded because of all the OSHA defecation. I’d rather solicit donations to get the stupid rules off the books and out of peoples’ minds.