The South is Really Getting to Me

At first it was only mildly annoying that so many businesses are closed on Sundays. It was almost cute. I could accept it.

Then there's the place. The unbelievably sticky slow pace at which life moves here. Mike and I don't find it relaxing; it makes us anxious and twitchy.

People don't have voice mail. People with jobs that require them to call other people back. I'm not sure if voice mail would mean that calls would be returned, but at least I could feel that I was doing my part.

I spent most of last week attempting to verify my employment with the local school district. Ten rings and no answer. I spoke with someone yesterday and was told that the best way to get the answer to my question was to come into the office. I did that this morning and waited for an hour and a half, only to be told that I should have had an appointment and that the principal's recommendation for my hire is "in the computer."

This doesn't mean that I am hired. I have to get fingerprints, a drug screen, and submit copies of various documents. But I can't do any of that until someone in their office calls me. There is nothing that I can do other than wait for the call. These are the same people who were supposed to call me in April.

Human Resources is currently busy attempting to fill teacher vacancies with teachers who were excessed last year. Then they can hire new people. They think that they might be ready in two weeks. School starts on Monday.

It's not surprising that the public schools here are among the worst in the country. They look DCPS look downright organized.