Work it Baby

I just got home from a conference in San Diego involving the social work leaders in healthcare.  Although the annual conference fell during the last part of my fiance's vacation home, I went solo to obtain CEU's and network.  My hope was to meet social workers from Indiana.  As luck would have it, I sat down next to one on the shuttle bus from the airport within minutes of arriving.  I think she put it eloquantly, "I don't believe in chance." 

We spent a few hours sight seeing around the gas lamp district.  Its as vintage as sunny California can get with Victorian archetecture, bar after bar, and pan handlers asking for change so they can buy weed.  (At least they are honest.)  I think this scene was a bit much for my new friend who looked just like my third grade teacher, Mrs. Liston, complete with the large framed bifocal glasses, Rebok shoes, and knitted sweater.  Her response was, "Oh my." 

As we walked around town, I listened to her stories of her three very single sons, her desire for a daughter-in-law, and her husband's new retirement with hobbies that include orchard tending and bee keeping on their farm house estate.  The next day she introduced me to several of the Indiana delegates.  Mrs. Liston II wasn't shy in introducing me and then saying I was looking for a job.  I had dinner with the group and spoke with the State's chapter president who said she had two openings in the county system, but then listened to my experience and said the board would never hire me because I had done too much, was too experienced, and posed to be a threat.  I have a fear this is going to be the case no matter where I apply.  I was so "in" with the Indy group that I accidentially got my photo taken with them for the chapter and somehow missed the Utah group.  Oops.

It also turns out that Mrs. L II is a lifetime achievement award person with the National society.  She has created innovative social work programs to help fund expensive things like breast care medications to those who don't qualify for insurance or Medicaid.  Who would have thought there was so much gusto in the reincarnation of a grade school teacher?

I spent the next day trying to make it up to the Utah group by going to lunch with them.  They asked me to run for president-elect of our chapter and I somehow edged out of that one. 

When I was leaving yesterday I found Mrs. L II and told her thank you for everything.  She began to cry.  Ack.  She went on to say that she thought I was "precious" and that she looked forward to me moving there so she could show me all of the "bargain shopping places" in the city.  I was introduced to her husband, Bob the Beekeeper, who said, "Ah you're the one my wife keeps saying she wishes was marrying into our family, but hey, congratulations on your engagement."  She made me swear I would send her my resume as soon as I got home.

All I could say?  Oh my.