A stamp of disapproval

In the span of seven days, I went from giving myself a high five to slapping that same five to my forehead in angst.

I messed up. The kind of mistake that, while understandable, but certainly avoidable. The error that a 65-yearold applying for work after having the same job for 41 years would make. I choked, man.

Last week, I checked the United States Postal Service website for the many-th time since moving to El Sueño, my cabin residence in Fisher County. There’s a word for someone who collects stamps, loves post offices, and appreciates those cute little vehicles that carriers drive, but I don’t know what it is. I just know I am one. Solo driving in a vehicle on dirt roads and providing a service by delivering mail while listening to podcasts or music has (had) my name stamped all over it.

The website October 3 had an opening in a small town about twenty-five miles from my little house. I grabbed my computer and a USB cord and drove to the hill in Rotan, America, set up the hot spot, and went to work completing the application. Within fortyeight hours, I was offered the position. I simply had to a) accept the offer and (b) fill out the government’s background application. Being time-sensitive, the application must be completed online within three business days or the offer would be rescinded. Since this next form was going to take longer to complete, I asked the very accommodating editors/publishers/owners of the Double Mountain Chronicle if I could access the Wi-Fi in their office. Tricia and Jeff, who rock, told me to come on down to Sammy Baugh Avenue.

I took care of the background check in little over an hour. Sent the form, gave myself another high five, thanked Lois and Clark, and went home to text my daughters the exciting news.

The next day, the lady from the post office where I would be working called, further bolstering my euphoria that this was real. She just wanted to check in and told me I would get an email regarding setting up the fingerprinting session. She also told me my training would take place in Lubbock soon, eight days’ worth. More joy because I knew I could save the government per diem by staying with family. Another high five for me for being such a good citizen.

Come October 12, I had not received the email for the fingerprinting assignment. The federal holiday, I reasoned, was probably part of the delay. Still, I decided to just drive to this little place and make sure all was well.

It was not. And it was my fault.

That fingerprinting email was attached in the same email as the background check form. I didn’t see it. The time sensitive date for completion was five days. It was day six. I got the boot from the system and will just have to wait to see if someone else applied. If so, the job offer goes to the next in line. If not, I can reapply. I am not hopeful, as government jobs get grabbed quickly.

That’s the way it should be. Jobs for large entities have to have deadlines. As a teacher, I gave homework and those assignments had deadlines. My policy was no late work—students got a “0” if nothing was turned in. However, I knew life happened, so my policy was also to drop two zeroes at the end of the grading period and their next lowest grade. A fair policy to help them be diligent. But, I built in some grace for those times students—latenight ball games, family emergencies, life stuff.

No mercy in my case.

In postal terms, “Return to Sender” is now stamped on my forehead. But neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night will prevent me from applying again.