August

Ah, August. A time when my email boxes overflow... Strangely Funny submissions are pouring into the MAHLLC coffers, and my personal email has become a FEMA flood zone of politicians pleading for money. Volunteering is the gift that keeps on giving...
An update on the past few months:

• I began temping in a call center in April, mere days after posting how discouraged I felt. In July, the center hired me away from Randstad. I'm happy to be wanted, but I can't figure out why. My father was a great salesman of school textbooks, and all I picked up was a love of reading. This belligerent introvert is learning new skills.
• My ebullient sister-in-law is moving to Tampa Bay in the next few weeks. It will be good to have more family here, and I may develop a social life despite myself.
• Gwen and I have finished Murder at the Million Dollar Pier, the sequel to Murder on the Mullet Express. It's the second book in the Three Snowbirds series, and we'll be doing a cover reveal in the near future.

I'm glad that my life is coming back together. We'll see what these changes bring.

Unemployment and Depression

I'm afraid that the job I accepted in February fell through. I received about three weeks of pay for it, so I did receive some benefit. Around the same time, I came to the end of my severance pay. Since I'd been keeping track of my job applications, the next step was applying for unemployment.

You may have been told that the unemployed are lazy people sitting around collecting money for nothing. I need to tell you two things: 1) I'd rather be working than going to interviews and having my hopes dashed again and again, and 2) I get $275 a week, which might be a lot in some states, but not in the Tampa Bay area. An article in the February 7th edition of the Tampa Bay Times states that the 'survival income' for a family of four is $60K/year. That's $5000 a month, in case you don't want to do the math. The 'survival income' for a single person is a little under $21K.

Gwen and I are a family of two. I am bleeping grateful that she still has a job, because I am alloted a little over $3000 for this year. That's how unemployment works. To qualify for it, I'm supposed to list five places I applied for work during each week. I usually list ten or more. I want out of this arrangement. Next week, I'm doing a workshop on successful interview techniques because I haven't done many, and I'm enough of an introvert to need help with social interactions that involve charm as well as answering questions.

Being rejected again and again is painful. It's especially so when I've taken skill assessments for temp agencies and been told how good my scores are. Sometimes I've been rejected because I lacked 'front office' experience. Other times, I've been advised to leave some of my experience off my resume because of either a) age discrimination or b) I would look too skilled for the jobs I was applying for. Folks, my ambitions are in writing, not in becoming a corporate raider.

This past week, I learned of a new complication: at least one of my previous employers doesn't give references. Instead, they use a service to confirm employment. This service costs money for prospective new employers to use, and I've learned it's not a new practice. I will contact the service to get what free verifications I am entitled to, but now I'm wondering how many jobs I lost because the employer could hire someone whose records they could verify without a charge. Stupid me.

This whole experience has eroded my ideas of who I am and that I have something to offer to the world. I've always been a steady worker; I spent over seven years in my first 'real job' and about fifteen in my second full-time position. I was approaching five years with my last employer when I was laid off. They treated me well in the process and gave me good severance, but I haven't found a place in this Brave New World of Work.

I'm not ready to quit looking for work. But I understand why some people have.

Unemployed

My employer did many things for me. I accumulated retirement again, Gwen and I had 'regular' healthcare again, and we were able to move into our own home.

The catch: my job was in the shrinking part of the company. I'm not going to get too specific here, but technology is rapidly rendering it obsolete. Some jobs were outsourced to cut down on expenses, but dwindling returns kept the demand for cuts high. The game of Musical Chairs began before my arrival, and I lasted for a long time. Yesterday, when the tune stopped playing, I lost.

I have a number of conflicting emotions about this. There's disappointment, anger, and fear for the future, but there's also a sense of relief. I've never liked Musical Chairs, for the same reason I don't like Jenga: too much stress. Someone is going to lose, and every misstep, every move you make could lead to your downfall. 

I will miss the people, but not the stress.