Jobless Losers (5-3-06)
It seems extraordinarily difficult for Philip to break into the job market again after having been laid off. Getting a job now seems to have become a science. It’s pretty evil to lure hundreds of people into the hope that they might be chosen for a position you’re hiring for and then not give them a chance to shine…you’re generally not allowed to call a business anymore, or come in in person, or even e-mail them. Getting a job used to be about getting personal until you made the right impression with the right company. Is anyone actually getting jobs out there? Is Philip coming off hopeless in his cover letters? Do they sense his desperation turning to apathy even though he’s a talented and experienced worker that they’d be lucky to have?
I feel so frustrated I want to march out there and get a job myself. But would anyone hire me? What if neither of us are ever hired again? What if we are entering into a vast wasteland of lousy fortune in which we become homeless people stealing sleeping bags from the good will and brushing Max’s teeth with twigs? What if this good life and all the good things we have are just a tease before our real life begins. What if all the good stuff that’s happened to us only happened so that our future bitterness will be ripe and full?
I have learned recently not to ask what could happen next. I can think of about a million things that could happen next. Anything could happen next. I could even become a born again Christian tomorrow. (Though I’d rather tether myself to a dinghy in a hurricane.) I’m beginning to feel that we are being humbled. That what’s coming next is going to be a lesson in letting go of all expectations of what people like us do to make a living. Of what people like us do when we come just a little bit further down in the world.
If only I could get health coverage that didn’t cost more than most people’s rent, we’d have enough money to get us through a little bit more of a rough patch. If I didn’t pay more for my healthcare than any other bill, I wouldn’t still feel like we’re in a sinking ship. But I do have to pay a ransom to Pacific Care just in case I have some bad luck and fall and break my hip. Oh wait…I already did that. (If you’re wondering what I consider a ransom, I don’t mind telling you. My COBRA “benefits” cost me $1100 per month. That’s just for me. Philip and Max have different health care.) I think most people only use COBRA for a month or two, until they get new employment. Because I broke my hip, no other health insurance will cover me until I have exhausted my COBRA benefits. Which last for eighteen months. If I use these benefits for eighteen months I will have paid Pacific Care a total of $19,800. So I can get a job that has good benefits (you can’t get screened with group plans) or Philip can get a job with good benefits.
The thing is, I feel absolutely sick to abandon my company and everything that it could become. And to leave my home and everything I do in it. I worked for many years outside the home and I know what working for other people out in the world takes from you. You don’t have time to bake bread. You barely have time to relax. And it turns your blood grey. For Philip though, it gives him peace to know what’s expected of him every day. It gives him comfort to have a concrete routine. He’s lost when he’s home. He runs around in circles trying to figure out how he can stay home, be jobless, and still have no time to get anything done. Not everyone thrives on an irregular life.
I’m trolling the papers and the internet for jobs now. More seriously than before. I am simultaneously planning to take a step forward in my company. To edit the product line, to add new things, and then get someone to build me a website for commerce. Then I’m going to work like hell to promote it. So I’ll be burning the midnight oil on every end possible (can there ever only be two ends?). I’ll be one of those bland tired looking JoAnne’s employees wearing pants that are two or three sizes too small for my ass and I’ll start wearing quilted vests covered in cute kitties. At night I will be an interesting entrepreneur with a brilliant moody artist for a husband and a firecracker for a son.
But when will there be time to be a homesteader? It’s best not to ask that question right now. Best to let that dream float comfortably in the area somewhere between here and there. The unreachable middle distance.
