Working for the Man

This week marks the beginning of my job working for the US Census Bureau. Yeah, I'm working for the man. But... I'm getting paid by the man. And I get to use this high-tech, nifty handheld computer that can only be turned on with my (whoa, Sydney) MY fingerprint and a password. All it's missing is an ocular scan.
Oolala.

I'm missing classes all week. (Aren't all my professors so lovely for excusing me from class so that I can eat again?) But, "Why do I have to miss an entire week of class?", you ask.
I'll tell you why.
I'm in training all week. 8 to 5:30 everyday. Training myself at night (our THREE manuals total about 800 pages of material). Beaucoup overtime. Not really anytime for studying seminary stuff, on top of the fact that I'm at the actual training sessions All. Day. Long.
But hey, they also have given me a super-cool official badge, messenger bag, and Oh Yeah- a cool little computer. I look pretty neat-o walking around all official with the 2010 Census gear. My parents have requested a picture of me at work. Maybe I'll put one up here. Maybe.

So... moving right along. Yesterday morning we were sworn in. That was crazy. I had to raise my right hand, pledge to "defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic... yada yada." The guy sitting next to me said that the last time he said that, he was shipped off to Vietnam.

Which brings me to the whole point of this blog. The people in training with me.
They're mostly my senior. I lie.
They all are. By a lot.
They don't understand "the Internets." Some of these folks do not own cell phones. (Fine by me, but track with me here... If they can't operate a cell phone, how do you think our training class is going? You know, the training to learn how to use a handheld computer that is state-of-the-art, satellite-synched, fingerprint-secure technology?)
I'll tell you. It's not going well. It's s.... l.... o..... w..... Oober slow. Almost backwards slow.
Here's something that happened today:
Leader: Now that you've selected the Address Canvassing from the Main Menu, use the stylus to open a new address and highlight the selected area using the YAH point on the map.
Student: Where's the main menu?

I'm not joking.

And, to add insult to injury, not only do I have to be there at 8 in the morning, but on my left sits the most talkative man on the planet. I'm pretty sure he wakes up talking as fast as an Olympic runner. I get three words in, and I probably look about as goofy as a speedwalker next to an Olympian. Yeah. He's just SO social.
On my right sits eat-and-whisper lady. I've decided to call her that because that is all she does. By 9:30 am, she had answered her CELL PHONE three times already! During training. It blew my mind. And she walked out around that time this morning to get Chick-Fil-A from someone who dropped it off (presumably the same person with whom she was coordinating this covert op via hushed cell phone conversations during class). It doesn't help that she eats fried chicken and pickles every meal. Barf. Pickles are just cucumbers soaked in evil.

I'm done with my little tirade. And very happy to have this awesome, awesome job. I just thought you should know how it's going :) I wish I had you (seriously, no matter who's reading this, I'm almost positive that I'd rather have you) as my neighbor in training class.