So, one of the things one must do in Oregon to qualify for unemployment benefits of any kind is to sign up for the “iMatchSkills” system.

Pardon me a moment while I stick another pin in the “please make the ubiquitous ‘i’ prefix go the hell away” voodoo doll. (Yes, I know that I own an iRiver music player. I don’t like the name, but I do like the device. So there.)

Anyway, the iMatchSkills thing. It’s tedious, but if it’s a necessary evil, then so be it.

I experienced two moderately bewildering problems. The first involved the disconnect between the instructions I was mailed and what I was supposed to do. The letter says “choose a username, password, hint question, and hint question answer.” But no, I found out when I called (and navigated a typically labrynthine prompt system), I already had a username to login as. Er, what? And this information was communicated to me when, exactly? It’s sure as hell not anywhere in that letter on my desk. The kind, helpful lady on the phone told me what my actual username is, and how to get into the system so I could set my own password.

The other problem is more… interesting. You see, my information was pre-populated in their system from (I presume) data made available by looking up my Social Security number in some government system. The odd thing is, they have you fill out a couple of fields anyway, just (I presume) to ensure that you are who you say you are. But when I went to click the “submit” button on the page with my basic info, it popped up an error message to the effect that something I’d entered was just plain wrong.

Let’s see. Name, check. (Or Czech even, har de har har.) Social Security #, check. Address, check. Date of birth, check. Click again, same error. On a whim I tried adjusting the date of my birth back one day… and tada!

Er, what?

One of two things must be the case, here. Either the Social Security database lists my birthdate incorrectly, or at some point in the previous application process (the initial filing for benefits) I, myself entered my birthdate incorrectly. The latter seems damned unlikely, mind you, but I won’t rule it out entirely.

And that’s my Monday so far. I envy those of you who woke up this morning and just, for instance, went to work for the day. Le sigh.

It was a fine, fine morning. I woke up, bathed, dressed in one of my nicer shirts, put on my overcoat, grabbed my umbrella and went for a walk. Along the way I stopped for breakfast (at Burgerville, if you must know). After a while, I turned around and came home.

The fact that I walked, in the rain, to the Convention Center an entire week early has only marginally dimmed my overall mood.

Make of that what you will.

Goodness gracious, it’s been a while since I wrote anything substantial here, hasn’t it? I guess I fell out of the habit of writing. That’s not to say I lack at least one good excuse, but I really shouldn’t neglect this thing so damned shamelessly. It’s not that I’m worried about “my readership,” but more that the therapeutic value of the journal-writing itself is being lost through my quiet inactivity. Nevermind that the longer I put off writing, the more I forget to write about, thus rendering useless the concept of this site as a journal, an “aide-memoire” for future use.

So, let’s recap events of the last nearly-a-month, shall we?

During that first week, I accomplished quite a bit, albeit entirely along the lines of cutting ties with my former workplace. (I hasten to point out that in almost all respects, my former bosses and coworkers behaved with the utmost professionalism and courtesy, and operated within guidelines laid out by Sarbanes/Oxley protocols. My only complaint is with the amount of time it took to get full closure and retrieve all of my possessions.) I got a new number and phone (much like the old phone… this one’s a Treo 650, and I am almost wholly thrilled with it), I moved the six websites I’m responsible for (to Infinity Internet, who by-and-large have provided excellent service; the occasional downtimes have been due to not enough damned RAM, a problem scheduled to be resolved next Monday), and put my resumé together (with considerable help from The Imperial Princess of Cute, which is to say “all I did was provide the info, she did the heavy lifting”).

Somewhere during all of this excitement, my dearest came down for a week-long visit. The ostensible reason was to do job-hunting prep, but it mainly ended up being a recovery period for us both. We were both way, way too damned stressed and depressed and what-not to function very well. I know I’m certainly feeling better about things now, even if I’m still thoroughly terrified about my job prospects. (I’m not a database admin, and I don’t have strong Microsoft-centric SysAdmin skills. Apparently that cuts my options way, way down. Argh.)

So, apparently this is a time of change and growth for me. (“Oh, goody, another learning experience!”) All that remains is to land a job and see how I can stretch & improve myself in the process.

Anything’s possible, right?

In between efforts to get my things (physical and virtual) from my former office, trying to get my mood back on an even keel, getting (and keeping) the new webserver running, gearing up for the job hunt and so forth, I simply haven’t had energy or willpower enough to write about what’s happened.

Maybe that’s for the best. Anything I’d have written in the last couple of weeks would’ve come across as dreadfully maudlin.

My goals as of now are simple, yet daunting: To find a job that pays comparably to the last one. (No choice, there. Child support + rent + other bills + eating = serious money.) To avoid slipping into a major depression. (If I fail this goal, I fail the other. It’s that simple.) I keep telling myself “I can do this,” and sometimes I even believe it.

I’m not really built for serious life challenges, you know? But I can either mourn the life I had or get the hell on with finding out what the future holds. Again, it’s that simple. And when you get right down to it, I’m a simple kind of guy.

Going to the office yesterday to get the last of my computer files, though, damned near broke me. Dammit.

Eleven people (about half of them Pisces). Three hours (and some-odd). Total tab of over $440 (counting gratuity).

I somehow managed to get invited along to dinner with a bunch of local broadcast engineering types (and some of their significant others, of course). We dined at Jake’s Famous Crawfish in downtown Portland, ate far more than was probably good for us, and generally had a good time. Continuing my new tradition of trying something I’ve never eaten before when presented with a good opportunity, I eschewed the “fish & chips” (it was cod, anyway, and the gods know that halibut’s the only way to go with that menu item) in favor of grilled mahi mahi in a soy ginger sauce with steamed rice.

Yum. I must remember this for some unspecified future date that involves seafood. I repeat: Yum.

To add insult to the injury I did to my wallet, I enjoyed a dessert of chocolate mousse. Hey, why not? If you’re going to dine out at a place like that, you might as well go nuts. Right?

So far, my haul consists of a “music of the 90’s” compilation CD (Mambo #5, anyone?) and a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

Today I turn 34 years old. My mother called at the stroke of 8am with birthday well-wishing. (I was in the shower at the time.) My father sent an email, and his girlfriend left a voice message on my office phone. Various co-workers have sent me e-cards and emails in addition to random greetings in the hallways. Later on I expect to be celebrating with my rugrats.

Maybe it’s not the perfect birthday, but it could be a lot worse…