Yeah, yeah.  Still looking for a job.  Only 10 years and counting.  Who knew an Ivy League educated black woman would be permanently unemployed (excuse me, underemployed — I know I should be grateful for all those low paying, benefit free jobs.).

I think I have just suffered through what has to be the longest job interview on earth — for a job — paying 40K per year — with questionable benefits — and yes, I would need my own car.

Many years ago when I still cared about making a difference — and I was able to ignore hundreds of thousands of dollars of educational debt — I was in the process of planning a prison education program for women at the Northeast Ohio Pre Release Center.  Bottom line was that I got involved in a case where the county was trying to permanently take an infant from an inmate.  It turned out after talking to prison officials that most of the women there not only had children, but were woefully ignorant of their rights/responsibilities regarding their children — especially those born in prison.

So, when cruising the job ads as I do every day — I came across an ad to do a somewhat similar educational program in the county jail.  I’ll admit, I was intrigued.

So I went for the first interview.  I waited more than half an hour for the executive director to get to me — then spent most of the remaining two hours trying to come up with precise percentages for how much time I spent on criminal versus divorce versus juvenile law.

Things were going well, I thought, when the executive director suggested a follow up interview, I was thinking that this was going smoother than most.  Then, of course, things went off course.  That next week, I got a phone call — why don’t I accompany the executive director down to the jail so I can see how it works.

Did I mention that she isn’t timely.  I left my house at 1:00 P.M.  only to get back home past eight on the cusp of darkness.  It was interesting, but spending over six hours with someone who’s quizzing you about how you supported yourself for all these years (hmmm, in debt up to my eyeballs — no regular income — what do you think?) among other things is a challenge.

So, when I go that next phone call, I thought, okay, here we go a second and final interview.  But no, of course not, instead, they wanted me to teach a class.  Yes, that required hours of preparation and another six hours with the executive director.

And yes, I finally had that second interview with two more people from the agency.  I’m not going to mention that in addition to keeping me waiting for almost an hour — I had to watch flip flop wearing white women run around like Chicken Little when the building’s electricity went out.

I literally sweat through that one.

The catch — because there’s always a catch.  I was the leading candidate until someone they’ve all known and loved forever decided that maybe she was interested in the job.  I haven’t known and loved them forever — so I’m out of luck again.

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