This week, I filed for unemployment on a computer that I own, using internet access that is speedy and reliable. Not everyone can afford this.

Due to fraud protection regulations recently enacted by those in power, I then had to drive to the unemployment office to confirm my application. Thankfully, I own a car. It runs well, and there was gas in the tank, which meant I could make the trip.

Once my application was completed and “in the system,” my identity needed to be confirmed. I had my driver’s license and my passport ready to go, but the state workers were unable to sign off on this step. Instead, they had me print a barcode on a sheet of paper, take it to the local post office and have one of their clerks confirm that I am… well, me.

I got back in my car and drove across town. At the post office, the clerk scanned my bar code, glanced at my ID and said, yes, you exist and are a person. Confirmation will reportedly arrive in my email inbox later.

Now I have to wait two weeks for my first check to arrive. Even though I have already searched for jobs (58 attempts this week alone), it won’t count in the system. However, I have savings in the bank and a kitchen full of food so not receiving new income for a while won’t kill us.

Sometime this month, the state will also require that I return to the unemployment office for a meeting to discuss the process of filing for unemployment and what is expected of me to continue receiving weekly checks of $387. Although I’ve attended this meeting twice in the past 15 years, I must do it again.

What if I didn’t have access to a computer or couldn’t afford Wi-Fi? Free computers with internet access are available at the unemployment office and public library — thank goodness! — but I’d still need to find a way to get there. What if I didn’t own a reliable form of transportation or couldn’t drive? Even in a small city, public transportation options are limited. What if I didn’t have savings to survive on or hadn’t stockpiled food for a rainy day? Would I just go hungry for two weeks? What if I had to pay for child care every time I needed to jump through one of these hoops?

In a society that prioritizes enacting fraud prevention over helping people live a life where committing fraud is unthinkable, I’m constantly reminded of how privileged I am. Because I have a roof over my head, food in the house, some money in the bank and a car in the garage, the whole process of obtaining unemployment was time-consuming and annoying. Yet, if I didn’t have these advantages, each hoop might feel impossible to jump through.