I'm a Good Girl, I Am
While I could never lay claim to having lived a blameless life, I certainly have never been a criminal. I've had a few parking tickets...which I've paid. I think the only time I've ever even been inside a police station was last summer when The Child and I went to Forks, and since that was part of the "Twilight" tour I don't think it counts. I've never done drugs, stolen anything, lied on my taxes or taken bribes.
I'm one of those people who hears a police siren and immediately wonder what I've done wrong, even though I haven't done anything wrong and am, in fact, one of the first people to pull to the right so the vehicle in question can speed on its way.
I don't kick puppies, beat children nor am I a polygamist.
But yesterday, when I had to fill out the Scary Form for my FBI background check I was a mess.
"Don't make any mistakes," warned MAB. "This is serious".
That was helpful. Not.
After the preliminary "where were you born and when" stuff it was on to grueling questions like "Where have you lived for the last 5 years and who can verify that who isn't your spouse or a relative"? I've lived in the same place for 13 years. But all a sudden I wasn't sure when we bought the house or if the 9 came before or after the 2 in our address.
No pressure.
Employment history for the last 5 years. That was fun. Um, for 3 of those years I wasn't employed. (List someone who can verify that, who isn't your spouse or a relative or the person who can verify where you live). Then I was self-employed. (Verify that. I put myself. Because I was my boss. I hope THAT flies). Then I worked where I work. Sheesh.
Names, addresses and phone numbers of 3 people who know you well (who are not your spouse, a relative or anyone you've already listed as a verifier). Right. I didn't have my address book at work. So I had to call people. And my cell was dead. Fortunately, I have a charger at work, so there I am, leaning over weird because the charger cord is shorter than the distance from me to my computer, calling people and just praying 3 of 'em are available so I can type their deets into the form with the one finger I had available.
And then, at home, I had to dig out a second piece of ID because when I go to be fingerprinted today I have to show 2. My passport is expired so that won't do. I basically filled a file with a variety of ephemera, in hopes at least one of them is what I need.
And looming at the back of all this is the fact that a colleague recently had a visit from an FBI agent, checking into something (she still isn't sure what) that apparently came up in her background check. Which is only to say that this really is serious stuff. I know I'm lily-white from a criminal perspective but man, nothing like a 412 page form and the need for 2 pieces of ID to make a girl a little nervous.
I'm one of those people who hears a police siren and immediately wonder what I've done wrong, even though I haven't done anything wrong and am, in fact, one of the first people to pull to the right so the vehicle in question can speed on its way.
I don't kick puppies, beat children nor am I a polygamist.
But yesterday, when I had to fill out the Scary Form for my FBI background check I was a mess.
"Don't make any mistakes," warned MAB. "This is serious".
That was helpful. Not.
After the preliminary "where were you born and when" stuff it was on to grueling questions like "Where have you lived for the last 5 years and who can verify that who isn't your spouse or a relative"? I've lived in the same place for 13 years. But all a sudden I wasn't sure when we bought the house or if the 9 came before or after the 2 in our address.
No pressure.
Employment history for the last 5 years. That was fun. Um, for 3 of those years I wasn't employed. (List someone who can verify that, who isn't your spouse or a relative or the person who can verify where you live). Then I was self-employed. (Verify that. I put myself. Because I was my boss. I hope THAT flies). Then I worked where I work. Sheesh.
Names, addresses and phone numbers of 3 people who know you well (who are not your spouse, a relative or anyone you've already listed as a verifier). Right. I didn't have my address book at work. So I had to call people. And my cell was dead. Fortunately, I have a charger at work, so there I am, leaning over weird because the charger cord is shorter than the distance from me to my computer, calling people and just praying 3 of 'em are available so I can type their deets into the form with the one finger I had available.
And then, at home, I had to dig out a second piece of ID because when I go to be fingerprinted today I have to show 2. My passport is expired so that won't do. I basically filled a file with a variety of ephemera, in hopes at least one of them is what I need.
And looming at the back of all this is the fact that a colleague recently had a visit from an FBI agent, checking into something (she still isn't sure what) that apparently came up in her background check. Which is only to say that this really is serious stuff. I know I'm lily-white from a criminal perspective but man, nothing like a 412 page form and the need for 2 pieces of ID to make a girl a little nervous.
Labels: men in black, The Job
cobbled together by Moi at 7:18 AM
9 Comments:
I know you, does that count?
I know what you mean-I always feel 'guilty' when I walk out of a store & the buzzers go off, even though I didn't steal anything...geesh.
My ex bf applied for a gov't job & they even went to his high school to talk to his old teachers and stopped by his friends homes and my home. Did you have to reveal your blog addy?
Good luck!
Thanks for sharing! And yes sometimes this thing happens. Nowadays background checks have become more and more important. Who knows who has done what in the past.
Oh Poor Auntie Raine. That sounds so stressful. :(
Ba Ha Ha Ha
Good thing they don't do that when you run for public office.
I got on the ballot and was elected with 0 checks of any kind.
Went to the Democrat electon watch party yesterday too. Yay, free stuff.
Want an invite for the next time? There is kinda a monthly thing.
Peace
:+}
Thank you for not giving them my name and contact information. I'm trying to fly under the radar.
Hang on, there's a knock at my door...
Now we just need you to account for those 2 missing days in O-Town,two Summers ago..
Oh my God, join the club. I think the government knows more about me than I do.
I really and truly resent having to give away tons of info about myself and I don't buy the whole 'well, if you haven't got anything to hide, then you haven't got anything to worry about' argument.
Anyway, you'd better not tell anyone you know me.
Geez, I would be nervous, too! :)
Post a Comment
<< Home