If I leave my Xbox on all night, is it going to blow up?

O the important things in life, no? Ugh.

Yesterday, at work, I received a phone call. It wasn’t for me, personally, it was for whomever happened to answer the phone, being the only person there, that fell to me.

“Hi. You don’t know me, but my name is _____ _____, and I’m a victim of Hurricane Katrina.”

Pause. The inner cynic is quick to awaken. Is this going to be a scam asking for money? What am I supposed to say?

“Hi. Oh. I’m sorry for your—how are you?”

“I’m in Texas and I’m trying to find a job. I’m wondering if y’all are hiring.”

I splutter for a second, because I want to be kind and also honest—honest = no job.

“Well, we’re a very small store and we are fully staffed. However, if you are able to fax or e-mail or mail a resume, I’m sure the owner would be happy to see it.” I feel completely stupid. “Sometimes we need someone to fill in, and it’s possible that if you meet with her, and you’re a fit for the shop, we might call you in once in a while?”

“I’ve already given you my resume.”

“Ummmm…well, how long ago?”

“Five years ago.”

“Oh, errr…uh, we wouldn’t have it anymore. Can you send us a new one?”

It goes on like this for about ten more minutes; she explained how she would be perfect for our store and how she’d be coming to Seattle, because that’s where her husband’s family live. The whole time I am awash with guilt, and then irritation at my guilt and then confusion. What am I supposed to say to this woman? Because she’s had a major upheaval and tragedy in her life I feel, suddenly, responsible to her to help and yet it’s not my position to hire people, we are fully staffed, besides dealing with a slow economy in a business that pretty much relies on people feeling like they can splurge. Not to mention the fact that we really would need to meet with her and see if this is the kind of job for her. It was awkward and sad and I felt like such a heel by the time we’d hung up.

Like many people, I watch the devastation on television, read about it in the newspapers and online articles and shake my head for lack of anything to say. What can I say? Screw you FEMA? Nice work leeching the funding for levy improvement? Bush is completely out of touch with the country, I told you so? Yes. I can say all of those things, and no, it doesn’t make me feel any better. As if I’m the one who needs to feel better. Gross. Nothing like a horrific tragedy to remind one how small one is…sitting over here, on the opposite side of the states, I feel relief that my family members are all safe. “Thank goodness Jess is over in Iraq and not on some special field training in Louisiana. Phew!” (He was, once, before he got shipped out to Iraq, again.) “Good thing Holly is in Florida where they get an immediate disaster relief response to hurricanes, just in case a big one should hit there, I mean.”

Here’s my favorite photo op, thus far. Can we all say “gross”?