Wow. It’s been a day. By that I don’t mean it’s been a period of twenty-four hours in which nothing has happened except for the sun moving across the sky; a period of light and then a period of dark with sleep and other states of wakefulness in between. Instead, I mean that things really got off to a change today.

For starters I decided that I needed to take my job searching to a whole different level, in a different direction. Until now I have been working with recruiters and friends to try and find interviews (I’ve had a total of three interviews since moving to the east coast, two in Boston, on in Concord, NH) and hopefully have an interview turn into a job. I went to the temp agencies around here to apply with them so that they will try and place me with someone else.

I wish I could say that I didn’t owe a personal debt of gratitude to staffing and temp agencies over the years; but, looking at my resume the omitted employers are places like Manpower and Prince Perelson, both got me started down paths that have, indirectly, led me to New Hampshire and the greater Boston area. Without these places I wouldn’t have gone to work for SENTO Corp. or C.R. England and in both cases I wouldn’t have been in positions to transition to other areas and to follow other interests.

Anyway, my plan was to find a handful of these places to apply to and spend four or five hours, during the day, applying and seeing if, by Monday, I could round anything up that would allow me to walk away from Borders. I don’t really feel comfortable at the bookstore anymore, it’s not physically good for me to be there, and yet, day to day, I have to return there in order to pay rent, pay bills, and do the things that I do (which aren’t a whole lot).

Regardless, I went about looking for some of the strictly local shops. What I learned from Prince Perelson was that you can get jobs using the big name national chains, and that really does work, but some of the cooler jobs, some of the places you don’t even know exist, come out of the home grown variations. My goal was to apply to two or three of these and then one of the big names – the national units (because truth told, the national names can get me into Boston eventually).

The first local place I went to I followed the Mapquest directions and got lost. I have to admit that being in New Hampshire for eight going on nine months would cause me to be lost within two or three clicks of where I work, but as I wandered around the area I discovered a street that I’d seen, heard people talk about, but had never been on and that was the street I needed to find. I found it, found the building, and didn’t find the agency that was supposed to be housed in that building. When I called the agency they said their office was located in Manchester (I’m not going down to Manchester today) and they gave me directions like I was an idiot (and I felt like one because people give me the name of a town and I act like I’ve never heard of it when I’ve never heard of it).

After that I decided that I was going to give up on that place, went to the next place on the list, noticed it was in the downtown area of Concord, noticed that I needed change for parking meters, noticed that I didn’t have any change on me, noticed that I needed to go home, and finally noticed that the last name on my short list was on South Main Street and with any luck would be on the way home. It wasn’t.

Went home, grabbed several dollars in quarters, dimes and nickels and then headed back downtown. Instead of going to the big name staffing agency (the national chain) I hooked a louis at the McDonalds and headed along the extension of Main Street that actually gets to the street numbers the address on the internet indicated. When I finally found the address I pulled a really fast right into the parking lot, throwing the remnants of sand from snow season into the air and squealing my tires, and then parked in the parking lot.

Sometime between going home and this next stop I’d realized that wearing a black silk shirt and a black leather jacket (both light fabrics) on a sunny day with the sunroof open wasn’t really conducive to the temperature I wanted to be traveling at, so the jacket got tossed into the backseat, the fan was turned up, the music was made louder, and the parking lot was mine for the taking.

Finding the right building wasn’t hard. There was a big sign indicating where the building was, though the interior of the building was on the verger of being stifling hot. Haven’t people, in New England, heard of air-conditioning? Actually, to answer that question, no they haven’t; which is why you see window units on most homes and not central air installed – though we did have a neighbor who installed central air into their home, then found out the husband was being laid off, he found a job with a company in Denver, and now they will be selling the home and spending the summer in Louisiana. Shouldn’t have gone against the gods of New England and put the central air into the house.

Moving along, once I got into the office and started chatting with the receptionist I was informed that I couldn’t fill out an application until I’d been interviewed. Now, does that strike anyone else as more than just a little odd? Because, you know, my problem over the past several months hasn’t been filling out applications and it sure hasn’t been applying for places, it’s been the interviewing. No interviews means no jobs means no additional income means my bills don’t all get paid means that sooner or later the inevitable is going to happen and the bankruptcy courts and I are going to be forced to acquaint ourselves. That is not the option I really want to have happen and so I pushed to find out how one gets an interview and she set up one for Monday morning where they will be more than happy to talk to me, let me apply, and see what they can do.

After that I parked in Downtown Concord, found the buildings and the addresses and discovered that, once again, that at least one address was WRONG. The other address indicated that the people were at some offsite event and when they’d be back. Debbie wanted me to watch the girls today so I had a deadline and since I have to run for thirty or forty minutes a day to keep the devil away that also meant that I needed to go to Wal-Mart to replace the shampoo and conditioner that I ran out of this morning when I showered to go to these gall-dern offices, which meant that I was under a time crunch.

Since one of the two places didn’t exist anymore, and the other place existed but was unmanned and you couldn’t get to the top floor from the elevator anyway, I wandered through several shops in downtown. There is an art shop that was bordering on wicked cool that I want to go back to, and then two camera shops, the cooler of the two I didn’t get a chance to go into. It looked like many of the downtown buildings were initially built with courtyards and fountains for patrons to wander through, sit down in, relax, but those have gone into disrepair. I walked into a bookstore and discovered the annoying nature of a small bookstore that someone owns because they have nothing better to do with their time thinking that people will buy from them because of location, location, location – and they’re right, but not because their selection of books is very good, but rather because their selection of adult oriented magazines of the breast, leg, and rear kind were overwhelmingly present on the newsstands. I counted three rows across five shelves packed full of those magazines. And no Backpacker magazine. What as crying shame.

After that I talked to an older gentlemen about digital SLR bodies from Cannon and what the going rate is and then went back to the temp agency (this is the national one) where I applied, talked to the guy about what I would like to be doing (almost anything) and that I would like to move past where I am currently working. The whole affair was pretty minimal, if I can use that word, as I handed him a background I don’t think he’d seen very often, was referred to their regional professional placement office, and then promised that he would proactively contact some clients who have, in the past, needed what I can do.

With that said and done I still had fifteen minutes on the meter, left the parking space, hit Wal-Mart and then got home in time for the older of the two little girls I live with to decide her nap was over and that she was going to be awake the rest of the afternoon. So, I changed into my shorts and a t-shirt, got on the trainer, and sweated to the Muppet Movie (my choice) while the oldest girl sat and watched in rapt attention. She was introduced, jsyk, to the Muppets about a week ago when Andy and I decided to watch Muppets from Space because it’s a good movie.

In the end, I didn’t have to change any diapers. Once the movie was over the TV was off. And I’ve done some studying for one of my classes so I can try and pull out an “A”.

At this point I am thinking that any place that has that many magazines and doesn’t sell Backpacker (referring to the disappointing bookstore) shouldn’t be allowed to exist regardless of the amount of porn addicted purchasers come into their store. Although, I do have to admit that they had Outdoor magazine, which is okay, but they had it in place with the women’s magazines and it’s really what the name says it is.

This past week has had a flurry of activity within the Terry Shiavo case from Florida to Atlanta (Federal Appeals Court) and right into Washington D.C. to the Supreme Court. In all instances where the Schindlers (Terri’s family) have tried to have the feeding tube reinserted (sic) they have been denied because the rule of law, the findings of the court, beyond a reasonable doubt, and the determination of many doctors of Terri’s state has been in the favor of Michael Shiavo. Terri is in a persistent vegetative state, the courts have determined that her wishes were not to remain alive in a persistent vegetative state, and now she is off the feeding tube, is in the process of dying, and people are still trying to make a federal and state case in the matter.

Terri’s parents, out of the blue yesterday, filed a motion with the court that Terri tried to tell them that she wanted to live. Her words, “AHHHH” and “WAAAAA”. There is no I want to live. They are two sounds that may sound like she is expressing a desire but do not go so far as to express anything. The Schindlers are holding onto false hope with the desire to see their daughter remain alive.

That’s not really the problem, though. Yesterday three children were arrested for trying to bring Terri water. One of the children, ten, said, “I am not worried God is with me.” God is often not with people in those situations. Does God want his sons and daughters to die? I don’t believe that is the case; but equal to not wanting them to die he also doesn’t want them to work contrary to the rule of law within the principalities where they live. Tresspassing is against the law. Cross police barriers is against the law. Helping out Terri Shiavo, in this case, against her husbands wishes is against the law.

In the past several days the nation has been inundated with news on Terri Shiavo’s case in the federal court system and the state court system of the state of Florida. The family and supporters of the Schindlers keep demanding that their biggest supporter, Gov. Jeb Bush step in and do something as though he had more power than the court system. Our nation was founded on a system of checks and balances and today we believe, and practice, that one of those equal checks is that the judiciary and the executive branches of government are equal in power. Gov. Bush and the state court systems are equal in power and one cannot trump the other without causes irreparable damage. Gov. Bush realizes this and, though trying to find a way to help, can do nothing because the courts have ruled.

The Schindlers have had their day in court, over and over again. They have been able to argue their case and file motions in courts that, legally, have no right to hearing what is being said. The determination is that their daughters wishes were not to remain alive in this state, that Michael Shiavo has the right to “pull the plug” and that the parents can only sit and watch it happen. That’s the rule of law and the Schindlers have had more access to the court system than a large majority of American’s will ever be afforded. They have abused the system.

Further, god is not with the people who try to break the law. He is not going to be with someone who tries to break into the hospice where Terri is kept. He is not going to be with someone who throws inflammatory comments at the politicians and judges who did everything they could to help the Schindlers. He is not going to be with anyone who works contrary to the determined wishes of Terri Shiavo, her husband Michael, the courts, or the rule of law. Ten or a hundred and regardless of the altruistic nature of your appeal and arguments, God is not with you when you work contrary to the established order of things.

Watching Terri Shiavo die is a horrible experience. No one should have to go through this, but a family and a nation are going through this very experience. Over 37,000 people are in persistent vegetative states. Many will lose their lives because families come to the realization that there is no hope that life will be regained. Doctors advise families to say their goodbyes and let the patient move on. That is important not only in this case, but as a nation where politicians from all over have overstepped their bounds to try and help. It is important because the Schindlers need to move on. It is important because, someday, each of us might have to make a similar decision and the right to life also includes the right to a peaceful death. Terri deserves to die peacefully. It’s time to let her go.