I finally registered for the GRE! Doing something productive with my life of deadbeatery and newfound teenage-ness is not all that awesome, but it's completely necessary.
I have a kick-ass GRE vocab app on my iPhone and I spend every free minute I can studying vocab. I'm not worrying about the math because grad schools only require a set score for the verbal portion, and because if I worried about the math I'd drive myself nucking futs while taking time away from vocab studying.
So, that's it. October 18th is D-day, and until then I actually have to do something productive! Fine!
I am living my second teenage-hood. My hair is in a faux hawk, my fingernails and toenails are a dark purple bordering on black, I live rent-free in an apartment someone else pays for, eat their food, and mooch off their laundry services. I don't have a "real" job. Instead I intern two days a week at a job that has the same social elements of working retail, and the other days I run errands for the people who support me, so basically, I do my chores.
I am basically fifteen again. And I fucking love it.
I have been the most responsible person I know for as long as I can remember, save when I was fourteen and fifteen when I was the rebel, the leader of the pack, the first one to smoke cigarettes and weed and drink, the bad influence. Before that brief time I was that kid who is eight-going-on-eighteen. And by sixteen I was graduating high school two years early and starting college. I was driven and responsible and I kept at it for another fourteen years, topping it all off with a little trip to law school and a little career as an attorney.
And now I am taking a break.
I am looking for work, but nothing in an office because I can't stand the thought of it. So I'm looking for personal assistant work so that I can spend my time running errands and frolicking all over Manhattan and getting paid for it. I suppose it's my version of a paper route.
I spent the better part of thirty years being responsible and grown up. And in a year I'll start spending the better part of the next thirty years doing the same thing. For this year I am absolutely stoked to leave responsibility behind, fancy myself punk rock, be dependent on people more grown up and responsible than myself, and be a teenager again.
Next step: buy a black light and smoke myself retarded. ; )
I received a fair amount of opinionated responses to my recent post on deadbeatery. Some opined that I need to buckle down and work hard to reach my goals, but most responses were the opposite. Most friends and readers expressed that I should relax, take a deep breath, and give myself a break.
I’ve wanted to live in New York for about eight years. After I passed the California bar I registered for the NY bar, but, before I could take it I decided it was probably more prudent to find work in the state where I was already licensed and focus on paying off my copious amounts of student loans. I spent a month here during a break from law school, I visit here two-to-three times a year, and I just freakin’ love it. NY has an intangible quality. Something that is distinctly not for everyone, somewhere I’ve always thought I would live for a few years. It’s New York, what more can I say?
So here I am. Doing what I’ve thought about doing for a long time. And it is as fabulous as I thought it would be, if not more so. I go out for happy hours, I have a plethora of friends, I live with two of the people I love most in the world, we go away on the weekends- NY, here and now, is my oyster.
In a year I will begin grad school. At that time I will dedicate two-to-three years of my life, all of my time and energy, to studying what I love. At that time my life will likely not be lived in New York, it will likely not involve happy hours and weekends away, and the social circle I have will be one I build from scratch, not one I’ve been building for years.
This is my time to simply live, to enjoy something I’ve always wanted.
My recent post on deadbeatery and the reactions to it got me thinking. And as I was thinking, a conversation ensued between me and my roommates. It was one of those back-room conversations, where the conversation itself becomes the center of your universe. We talked about life and love, we talked about the buzz over the recent New York Times article discussing why 20-somethings are basically deadbeats who refuse to “settle down,” and we talked about self-actualization.
Self-actualization is defined as the motivation to realize one’s own maximum potential and possibilities.
If you are like me, if you are a goal-oriented driven person, self-actualization is one of the best and most important things you do in your life. I set a goal for myself, let’s say, become a lawyer, and then I spend a chunk of my life self-actualizing that goal, realizing my own maximum potential within that goal. And one day I wake up and realized that I have accomplished my goal. I was a lawyer. I worked my way through four years of law school while working full-time, I studied for and passed the bar my first try, and then I practiced law for three years. That particular goal was actualized, and I was ready to move on.
When you are a goal-oriented person and much of your life is spent self-actualizing, different periods of your life become dedicated to different things. There are times in your life where your romantic relationship is the most important aspect of your life. During that time you put forth all your effort into the relationship, your life is more relationship-centered, and the goal you are trying to achieve is success in your romantic relationship.
At other times your goal is your career, and all your efforts of self-actualization are centered on that goal. You go to school, you work your way up your particular work-ladder, your life is work-centric, and your efforts are put toward actualizing the career goals you set for yourself at that particular time in your life.
And then there are the brief times when you find yourself in my current position. You have accomplished a major career goal, and you are not yet ready to start working on the next. You are not in a relationship, and, for whatever reason, you are not yet ready to be focused on another one. Your life is not work-centric, it is not relationship-centric, and so it becomes, at that point in your life, a time for whatever you need at that moment.
For me, and for my roommate G who introduced me to the idea of self-actualization and spearheaded this discussion, at this particular time what I need is to be free from major responsibility, to be social, and to just have fun.
I don’t want to study for the GRE because I never fucking feel like it. I bring my vocabulary flashcards around with me everywhere, but I never have a free moment to look at them, because those moments are dedicated to my social life, to enjoying every moment of my new life in New York.
I’m not focused on finding love and I’m not focused on prepping for grad school because neither of those agendas are my current goal. The study, the career, will come in time. It is absolutely certain to change my goals, my focus, and my life in one year. But until that next period of my life begins, it simply can’t hold my focus.
Don’t get me wrong, I have some goals that must be realized now in order for me to be able to begin working on my career goals next year. I have to take the GRE within the next few months, and I have to get my grad school applications out in December and January. But I don’t have to get an amazing score on the GRE. The programs I’m applying to only require a score of 600 or above on the verbal section. Would it be better for me to get a phenomenal score? Yes. Will not doing so keep me from getting into a great MFA program? No.
So again the deadbeatery comes into play. I know how much I need to study to get a 600 on the verbal section of the GRE, and I will get that limited amount of studying done. I will get my applications done on time. I will do the bare minimum amount of work necessary to preserve my future career goals, and no more.
Next year when I’m in grad school, when all my efforts need to be focused on my career, I will spend my time self-actualizing that goal. Until then I will focus my time on my goal of having fun and enjoying my life. I can give myself a break and not beat myself up over not doing any more than that. I can rest assured that I am, in fact, in a self-actualizing phase of my life and working toward a goal, it is just a different goal than I am used to.
P.S. I am writing this post from a porch deck of a Hamptons vacation house overlooking a heated pool. I am having one of the most relaxing and amazing weekends of my life, with two of my favorite girlfriends, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Do you think I’ve made the right choice?
I have had two separate friends point out / complain that I haven't been doing much writing lately, and specifically that I haven't updated This Unemployed Life in a while. It is sad, but true, and there is really no good reason for it. Thus, I attribute this lack of follow-through and creative drive to deadbeatery.
Urban Dictionary entry number 3 defines deadbeat as "A non-contributing adult." In our world (that of myself and my close friends), deadbeatery is the act of being a deadbeat, and a deadbeat is someone who is good-for-nothing, cannot be relied upon, and is basically useless. There is a whole lot of deadbeatery that goes on in the apartment where I currently reside. The deadbeat behavior is most commonly exhibited by my male roommate and dear friend, who has lovingly been named "King Deadbeat." Long live the King!
Apparently the deadbeatery has started to rub off on me. I have been here for over three weeks. I have probably spent about three hours of that time studying for the GRE, which I am allegedly taking in September. Not that I've registered for it or anything. I have probably updated This Unemployed Life two or three times, and have definitely written less iPinion articles than I should have. The one thing I have managed to do consistently is my weekly posts for the Saturday Poetry Series on As It Ought To Be, which have only occurred because I actually have a real-life deadline and my phone reminds me to meet this deadline every week.
This, my friends, is classic deadbeatery.
Remember a while back when I talked about the importance of routine? Well, I have that now, more or less, and apparently that's not enough. Apparently as a writer I need deadlines. And an editor breathing down my neck probably wouldn't hurt either... As for the GRE, I guess if I actually stopped being a deadbeat long enough to register for a specific test date that would (hopefully) put the necessary fire under me.
*sigh*
New York just has a lot to offer, a lot going on. There is yoga, happy hour, dinner with friends. There are nights out on the town, nights in recovering, and weekends away. There is work and there is play, and it doesn't leave a whole lot of time for extra curricular activities. Of course, to me, my writing life is not an extra-curricular activity. It's not paying my bills as of yet, but it is what I want to do with my life, what I love. So I should probably spend a little more time doing it and a little less time doing EVERYTHING else!
That's it for today. That's where I'm at. A deadbeat among deadbeats, with a nagging sensation somewhere deep inside me that I need to focus! I need to achieve my goals! I was worried when I planned to come to NY that my goals would fall to the wayside and living life would get in the way, and it has absolutely happened. New York, you are a seductive mistress. I have no power over you!
Recently This Unemployed Life featured an LA Times article and discussion on the bleak prospects for those with a PhD, particularly in the humanities. This post will be another uplifting look at the same concerns.
Okla Elliot, a Ph.D candidate, colleague of mine at As It Ought To Be, and the same person who helped me make the decision to go to graduate school for my MFA in creative writing, recently linked to an article published by The Chronicle of Higher Education.
This article paints a pretty dismal picture of pursuing higher education in the humanities. In fact, the main message of the article is "just don't go."
*sigh*
The author of the article suggests a person only pursue higher education in the humanities under the following circumstances:
"* You are independently wealthy, and you have no need to earn a living for
yourself or provide for anyone else.
* You come from that small class of well-connected people in academe who will
be able to find a place for you somewhere.
* You can rely on a partner to provide all of the income and benefits needed by
your household.
* You are earning a credential for a position that you already hold — such as a
high-school teacher — and your employer is paying for it."
Hmmm... Well, I am not independently wealthy. I think that's pretty apparent. I don't have a partner who can support me, nor do I want to rely on someone else if I can help it. And I'm not earning a credential I already hold. I do happen to have a very close friend in academe who may one day be able to help me get a position. But who knows. I certainly can't put all my eggs in that basket.
So I am back to the same square one I've always been on. I have to embrace the underlying truth that I am going back to graduate school first and foremost for the joy of the experience. I am going back for the opportunity to spend two-to-three years writing and reading and living poetry. I am going back to write a book that hopefully will get published and help put me on the map at the end of all of this. It would be great if this degree got me a job as a tenure-track literature professor, but that cannot be the be-all-end-all goal of the process.
I am blessed that, thanks to Okla Elliot, I am aware that there are graduate school programs that fund. I am blessed that I will not have to incur student loan debt to participate in this experience. And I am blessed to spend a few years doing what I love. Beyond that, it is in fate's hands. Like everything else.
The other night my girlfriend and I were having a conversation with a friend. My girlfriend was explaining to our friend that I am a lawyer who is no longer a lawyer. Later we were discussing my relationship status. My girlfriend said she couldn't refer to my boyfriend as my ex. Nor is he my boyfriend at the moment.
As I added up the sums of these conversations I realized that this non-status sums up my whole life at the moment. I am a lawyer who is no longer a lawyer. I have a boyfriend who is no longer my boyfriend. I am unemployed but working. I no longer belong to my old apartment in San Francisco, nor do I belong to my friend's apartment where I'm staying now.
I am a girl in limbo. Between my previous law career and my forthcoming career as a literature professor. I inhabit the spaces between. Not quite employed, not quite unemployed. Not quite single, not quite in a relationship. I have no idea where I will spend the next year until grad school, what city and state I will live in, what I will do for work.
There is a part of me that is completely comfortable with this in-between existence, and a part of me that is equally uncomfortable with it. The adventurer in me, the traveler, loves the freedom. I love that I am living in New York, that I may choose to stay here and fulfill a lifelong dream or I may choose to return to San Francisco, my lifelong home. At the same time I am a planner, and the planner in me wants to know what the plan is. Will I return to San Francisco, will I stay in New York? Will my boyfriend and I reconcile, or do I need to move on? Should I be finding work to sustain me in New York, or enjoy the freedom for a couple of months and focus on sustaining a life back home?
At the end of the day I have no answers. I would admittedly love a crystal ball. I would love to see the outcomes of all possible paths and then choose the path that looks like it will bring me the most happiness and success in life. But there is no crystal ball. Instead I have my eyes and ears open and am paying attention to the signs the universe provides. As doors open for me I enter them.
There is a unique kind of hardship to this existence as well. This weekend at a low point I distinctly felt the need to return home immediately. And at the moment I was making plans in my head I realized that I don't have a home to go home to, a life to go home to, at least not in the way I had a life before I left.
I cannot return to my boyfriend at the moment, who needs this time to himself. I cannot return to my apartment – there is a subletter living in my old room. I have no job there, nor do I have the same network of people offering me work as I do here. It was a sad and low moment for me when I realized I can't return to my old life now, even if I want or need to. Maybe I can return in a couple of months when some time has passed and some things have changed, but right now, at this moment, I cannot return to my old life. That is fine when I have a life here in New York, but in those rare moments where I fear I cannot live my life here either it is truly scary and sad to know I may not belong anywhere.
But I am an eternal optimist. If I can ride out the wave for a moment and get past a low point I come around to see that life is livable here or there. I have made the best of every opportunity I have had in this life thus far, so there is nothing keeping me from doing the same in the here and now.
In the end I truly believe that everything happens as it is meant to. And so I am open to the possibilities and resign myself to the fact that I am not in control, that I am merely along for the ride. Until choices are made and life becomes more settled, I am contentedly resigned to being a girl in limbo.
This unemployed life has taken a turn toward a new adventure, one that lies approximately 2,500 miles east of San Francisco. I am writing this entry on an airplane bound for New York. I purchased a one-way ticket, and, in truth, I have no idea where this journey is going to take me.
I am going to New York for work, sort of, for friends, definitely, and, as my dear friend and trophy wife likes to say, for a transition, that is, this journey is first and foremost for me. I suppose the 'why' of the decision is less important than the road ahead, than those things I look forward to and hope to accomplish while I'm there, and for those unknown experiences that lie on the horizon.
A number of invitations and various circumstances have brought me here. My personal life needed time and space to breathe, to choose a direction. In response my best friend of twenty-two years was kind enough to open her home to me. Then her brother/roommate (also a dear friend of mine) was able to get me an internship at his work. And so, one domino knocked down another until I found myself headed back to that city that has always captivated me.
I'll be living with my friends in Hoboken New Jersey, a vibrant youthful city across the Hudson River from NYC, just outside of Manhattan. Hoboken, by the way, boasts more bars per capita than any other city in the U.S. If you've never been, I strongly suggest it. It is a city filled with those successful enough to work in Manhattan but too young to afford to live there. Hoboken houses numerous boutiques, fantastic restaurants, and a vibrant life.
I'll be working two-to-three days a week in Manhattan proper. Thanks to good friends, good connections, and, of course, what I bring to the table, I'll be interning at the prestigious Demos, a non-partisan public policy research and advocacy organization. Whatever it is they need me to do, I'll be doing it, and no matter what it is I am going to experience both the structure I've been needing (five months of unemployment cooped up in my apartment writing has brought about its fare share of cabin fever) and the opportunity to work in an environment that will stimulate my brain and my passion.
Outside of the work and the living-it-up-in-the-big-city life, I bring to NY a few goals of my own. I plan to take the GRE in September, so I've got a fair amount of studying to do. And of course my grad school applications are due in the winter, and I've still got a long way to go editing my writing sample and preparing my applications. Truthfully these two goals alone can be the equivalent of a full-time job, so I'm going to have to exert a fair amount of willpower and resolve to get them done to my satisfaction in the midst of living and working amongst all this fabulousness.
I love New York. After I passed the California bar I had planned to take the New York bar, but decided instead to focus on getting my career rolling where I was already licensed. And we all know how that turned out, so it is appropriate that I find myself New York bound once again.
I plan to return to San Francisco in late September. I feel like two months is enough time to soak up new experiences, save up for and work toward grad school applications, and be ready to come home. But the truth is, who knows what the future holds. I am taking a step into the unknown of the universe. There is nothing tying me to one place or another. All there is is my willingness to see what doors open for me and where my path extends. I choose life, wherever it may lead.
Tomorrow I turn 30, and so today I am reflecting upon what it means to me to be entering my thirties.
My girlfriends and I have talked A LOT about our impending thirties over the past few years. Mostly we talked about how FABULOUS they would be. We all agreed that our thirties would be far more fabulous than our twenties for a number of reasons. Mostly the consensus was the following:
1) We would be more financially set than we'd ever been. After having spent our twenties in school and establishing our career paths, our thirties would be all about reaping the benefits of thriving in those established careers and making more money than we'd ever made before.
2) With that money we would have a more lavish lifestyle than we'd ever had before. We would be the thinnest and fittest we'd ever been because we would be able to afford nice gyms and personal trainers. We would be able to afford better food, maybe even hire a chef to come cook healthy low-calorie meals for us once a week. We would be able to take vacations at least once a year, and we'd have the money to take nice vacations, to trade hostels for hotels.
3) We would all wear right hand diamonds. As our thirties approached and it was pretty clear that many of us were not going to be engaged or married, we traded in the dream of a left hand diamond for the dream of a right. A diamond we bought for ourselves for our thirtieth birthday, a diamond that represented all we had accomplished and our dedication to ourselves.
Clearly I will not be buying myself a right hand diamond. Clearly I can't afford a personal trainer or a chef. And clearly I traded in the dream of the wealth and stability my legal career might have provided in exchange for the uncertainty of following my dreams.
In short, I am not where I thought I would be at thirty.
I've never been set on the idea of having kids, so, unlike some of my compatriots, I am not feeling a pull from my biological clock. At least not yet. And I have pretty mixed feelings about marriage - the realist in me in constant opposition to the hopeless romantic in me - so I am not really disappointed to be thirty and without a fiance or husband or a relationship that is likely to lead to that outcome.
On the other hand, it is odd to be turning thirty and be on the brink of being single, without a home of my own, without a job, and with a completely uncertain future.
It is not a disappointment, it is simply not where I thought I'd be at thirty.
The truth is I am a "glass half full" kind of girl. I see my career change as the opportunity of a lifetime. And I'm glad to trade in all the potential financial benefits of a career in the law for the chance to spend my life doing what I love, no matter the income.
In short, you could sum up my place in my life in one of two ways:
1) I am unemployed, my future is uncertain, I am unmarried, a husband and children are not in my near future, I don't have a home of my own, and I have not accomplished any of the things I thought I would accomplish at thirty; or
2) I have learned my lessons the hard way, and use the knowledge I've gained to my advantage. I made a tough choice to give up a career that might have brought me financial success but that brought me little inner happiness. I chose happiness and fulfillment and my dreams over money. I live life on my own terms, and the fact that I am not where I thought I'd be is thrilling, because I'm headed somewhere far better than I could have dreamed.
I choose the latter. Where I thought I'd be has become far less important than where I am, and all the possibility that lies in where I'm headed.
I recently read this very depressing LA Times article that discusses the bleak prospects for those with a PhD, particularly in the humanities. 
The article is titled "Universities are offering doctorates but few jobs." Well, really, in today's economy, who is offering a lot of jobs?
The article discusses the plight of universities and their current hiring processes:
"Many universities are cutting costs by reducing full-time staff and hiring adjunct or part-time professors. The number of full-time faculty members at universities was around 51% in 2007... That leaves many doctoral degree candidates stuck with adjunct work, which can pay as little as $2,000 a semester."
$2,000 a semester? A semester? Are you kidding me? That's nearly what I get in unemployment in one month! I would never be able to pay rent, bills, and student loan debt on that kind of abysmal income.
Those students with degrees in the humanities have the toughest road ahead of them:
"Graduates with humanities doctorates are particular[ly] vulnerable to the downturn in university hiring. In 2008, 86% of humanities doctoral recipients ended up in academia, whereas only 15% of engineering doctoral recipients did.
The number of jobs listed in the Modern Language Assn.'s Job Information List, a clearinghouse for English and foreign literature doctoral students, is down more than 40% over two years, the steepest decline since the association began keeping count."
And the graduates themselves are making personal pleas to prospective graduate school students:
" 'If you're thinking about going to graduate school, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it,' said Erin Williams Hyman. After receiving a doctorate in comparative literature from UCLA in 2005, she looked three years for a job as a professor but was unsuccessful...
Stover, the graduate-turned-poker-player, isn't bitter about switching careers. She said she was sick of the long hours and 'soul-sucking' world of academia. She still has friends who hold low-paying academic jobs who want out.
'In retrospect, doing a PhD was not worth putting in six years of my life, she said. 'But going through that whole process taught me a lot about how to work hard.' "
The funny thing is, these are exactly the things I say about law school! I warn people not to do it, that it's not worth it. And I also say that I learned a lot from the experience, particularly about hard work and accomplishing something.
So maybe it doesn't matter what you study. In today's market, if you're looking for a career, for a secure and well-paying job, higher education is not a guaranteed path to that outcome. In fact, I believe there is no guaranteed path to that outcome. And so I return to my mantra - if there is no guarantee of security and financial success, regardless of the career you choose, then do what you love.
That's what's in it for me. I am going back to grad school to do what I love.
My personal plan of action is to go back to school to become a literature professor. I want, someday, to teach creative writing at a university. So I fall right into the group of people the article discusses, and if present times are any indicator, my competition will be great and my chances of success slim.
How do I cope with the prospect of going back to school in the face of this job market? The answer is all about what's in it for me. Or, rather, what I'm in it for.
I am first going back to school for my MFA. An MFA is a terminal degree, which means it is not intended to be followed up by more schooling. An MFA is supposed to prepare a person for being hired as a professor if that is the career they choose.
But an MFA is also, perhaps more accurately, thought of as an opportunity to write. Given the competitive job market, given that creative writing teaching jobs often go to published and well-known writers, MFA students are encouraged to think of their time in graduate school as two or three years set aside for them to write.
This is how I view my impending time in grad school. Particularly since I plan to attend a school that funds, I look at this as two or three years that I have to write. Hopefully what I write will be good, will get published, will earn me a bit of a name, and will help me get a teaching position. Hopefully my MFA itself will get me a teaching position. But regardless of whether the degree produces the fruit of employment, what's in it for me is two or three years to write, and that itself is invaluable.
At the end of my two or three years of my MFA program I plan, like a groundhog, to poke my head out of my schooling hole and take notice of the weather. If it is a better time in this country, a better time for education, and thereby a better time to find a university professor position, I will put my effort into that. If, on the other hand, things look much like they do now and my prospects of finding a position are slim, then I will head right back into my study hole for my PhD. That will give me another five or more years to become an expert in my field, to be paid to be educated, and to allow the American climate some time to take a turn for the better.
If, after about eight or more years of schooling, the job market still looks bleak at the same time my law school student loans become due, then I'll do what I have to do to succeed. I may apply my expertise in the private sector, I may go back to the law, or, like Elena Stover from the LA Times article, I may become a professional gambler.
The point is that my decisions will not be made out of fear. Fear will not deter me from following my dream. One way or the other I always land on my feet. I am smart and capable and at the end of this road I will be excessively educated. I do not fear failure. I only fear not pursuing my dreams. Read More
The New York Times has done another expose on a person who is subject to excessive student loan debt. In this case the debtor is around $100,000 in debt, which is about a third less than my own student loan debt, and probably about fifty percent less than what my debt will be by the time I'm done deferring it.
Meet Courtney Munna. She is 26 years old, holds an interdisciplinary degree in religious and women's studies, and, despite being a graduate of the prestigious NYU, she states that hers is "an education [she] ... would happily give back."
I believe that when I was an undergrad my tuition cost about $14,000 for my entire two years at UC Santa Cruz. I have a girlfriend whose daughter was just accepted to Columbia, an offer she turned down at a whopping cost of $60,000 per year.
The New York Times article attempts to determine who is to blame for this young woman having a nearly worthless degree (in the words of Avenue Q, "What do you do with a BA in English?"), earning $22 an hour, and student loan debt she can't make payments on given her income.
Is it her mother, who only wanted her daughter to have a great education, who is to blame? Is it the school that encouraged her to take out these loans in order to attend? Or is it the lenders, who granted these loans knowing what Munna was likely to earn with such a degree, and thereby knowing the likelihood that she would be unable to make the loan payments?
Well, of the options given I'd hold the lenders the most responsible. The article repeatedly compares the lenders with the big banks that caused the mortgage crisis, and the parallels are clear.
Truthfully, however, I think the problem is bigger than the lenders. I think the problem is embedded in this country that allows schools to charge such high tuition, unregulated, without tuition being directly related to the likely earning capacity related to a given degree. The problem is that student loan debt cannot be discharged in bankruptcy. The problem is that the American dream comes at a price, and no one is being realistic about what that price is or how a generation as financially screwed as ours is going to pay that price.
My favorite part of the article, however, is the advertisement, built right into the text of the article between "just like the mortgage lenders who didn't ask borrowers to verify their incomes" and "Ms. Munna does not want to walk away from her loans in the same way many mortgage holders are," which states "[Click here to find an online degree program]." Because the answer, clearly, is paying for more education that cannot yield salaries worthy of the associated loans, and of course, incurring more debt to finance the endeavor.
I am a creature of habit. There was once an entire year where I started off every day with a small nonfat chai tea latte from Starbucks, had avocado maki for lunch, had a low-fat omelet with a slice of bread for an afternoon snack, and ate a bowl of tomato soup for dinner. Every day. For a year.
Of course, I was working that year, and that made all the difference.
For me, and others like me, routine is important. Routine ensures you eat breakfast like you're supposed to and that you hit the gym for an hour after work.
Now that I am without a job I am without a routine. It sounds easy to create a routine, and many people do. People who work from home or at coffee shops and function well on a routine find a way to fit a routine into their non-traditional work lives. They get up at the same time every day, eat the same breakfast, hit the same coffee shop for the same number of hours, maybe hit the gym on the way home. They have the determination and willpower necessary to create their own routine amidst all their freedom.
I, on the other hand, tend to give in to the freedom. Despite what time I set my alarm, I manage to sleep in until 10:00 or later. Sometimes I forget to eat breakfast. I haven't been to the gym in a month.
But what is more frustrating for me about my lack of routine is it breeds laziness and apathy. I don't get out of bed early because I don't feel like it. And I find it increasingly difficult to accomplish the tasks I have set for myself. I find reasons to procrastinate instead of studying for the GRE or writing for one of the many blogs I am involved with.
Sometimes my procrastination is productive - I clean or cook instead of sitting down to "work." Sometimes it is not so productive - I check my email compulsively and dick around on facebook, as discussed in a previous post.
At the end of the day I have more hours available to me to be productive than most working people, and yet I use my time less wisely. To me, it appears that this lack of productivity and drive stems from a lack of routine. In fact, when I was working, I was often most productive in my personal projects when dicking around at work.
The truth is, I need a routine. I need a reason that I have to get out of bed early, instead of having a choice about it. I need to know that every day I get up at 9:00, eat breakfast, practice guitar for 10 minutes, blog, study for the GRE, go to the gym, eat lunch, blog, work on my grad school applications, go for a walk, eat dinner, and then have the evening free. For some reason within this structure I find it easier to thrive and to be the healthy productive person I want to be.
Instead, I got out of bed today at 10:00, have eaten spaghetti for two meals and a snack, am writing this on my couch in my robe, and have not set goals for tasks I plan to accomplish today. The truth is I love being unemployed, but I miss having a routine.
I am now writing opinion editorial columns for the op ed syndicate iPinion.
Visit iPinion and click on my picture, or take a look at the site's most recent columns to see what's new!
While you're there check out the columns and photographs by the award winning writers featured along with me!
Sometimes I forget that some people read this blog just to find out the basic details of my life. Sometimes I worry that this blog is becoming This Graduate School Life. Then I remember that this is THIS Unemployed Life for a reason. That this blog is about MY journey through unemployment, and for me, that means I now spend a fair amount of time talking about graduate school.
So today, after literally over a month of reading books about choosing the right Creative Writing MFA Program (yes, there are at least two books dedicated to the subject), studying the websites for the possible programs, and making a spreadsheet (yes, I made a spreadsheet to assist in this decision-making process), I have finally (with the help of my mom) narrowed down my list and chosen the twelve graduate schools that I will apply to.
Here, in no particular order, are the finalists:
Brown (in Providence, RI)
Syracuse University (in upstate New York)
University of Iowa
University of Massachusettes (in Amherst, Mass)
University of Michigan
University of Texas (in Austin)
University of Wisconsin
University of Florida (in Gainesville, FLA)
University of Minnesota
Vanderbilt University (in Nashville, TN)
Louisiana State, and
New York University
Why twelve schools? Well, basically, because one of the books I read said so! The above schools range in acceptance rates from 1.5% to <10%. So if I am lucky I will be accepted to one. If I am truly blessed, I will be accepted to more than one and will have the luxury of choosing between them.
With such low acceptance rates and incoming classes of poets ranging from 5 poets/year to 28 poets/year, it is important that I apply to several schools to give myself a better chance of being accepted. At the same time, with application fees ranging from $40-$75 per school, not to mention having to write separate statements of purpose for each school, I can't afford to apply to all twenty-three schools that made my original list.
So how did I chose these schools? And if I had the luxury of choice, why did I narrow the list down to include places like Iowa and Wisconsin?
I'll address the second question first, because I get that one A LOT. The answer is: Most of the schools that fund are in places people would not otherwise want to live. The list I narrowed from included more mid-western and southern schools, not a bunch of schools in California and New York.
My list was first narrowed by funding - I only considered schools that completely fund and provide some sort of stipend so I will have no student loan debts (above and beyond my $130,000 in law school debt) and will essentially make school my career, basically paying me to go to school. (NYU is the one exception to this - I can only attend this school if I am accepted AND given one of a very few selective fellowships, but living and learning in Greenwich Village is my dream, so I have to at least see if I can make it come true.)
Of the schools that fund I narrowed further based on location, program reputation, and the information I liked (or didn't like) on the program's website.
For location I first considered places I'd actually like to live (Austin & Manhattan), followed by places I could tolerate living in for various reasons (Ann Arbor, Providence, Amherst), and after that I just accepted that I might be very cold while in graduate school, so I'd better find myself in a program that I'll love enough to make it worthwhile.
Finally I used the schools' websites to decide what programs sounded up my alley. Which schools have three year programs as opposed to two year programs (three year programs produce better work from students)? Which schools would only have me teaching one course per semester so I could focus mostly on writing? Which schools had me teaching courses in creative writing as opposed to composition? Which schools had literary journals I could work on, active literary communities, websites that sounded welcoming, and produced students who were published or hired in tenure-track professor positions?
Finally, when many of the "maybe" schools had pros in some columns and cons in others, I went back again to location. Which schools were nearer to the ocean or were in cities that sounded more tolerable than others? I ended up cutting out both schools in Indiana, even though one school had a lot of pros, because when my father first settled in this country it was in Indiana, and the family forced the patriarch to get them the hell out of dodge, and stat.
In the end here is what is most important: If I am lucky, I will get into one of these schools. Which means I have to narrow down my application list so that I will be happy no matter which school accepts me. Of course I have my personal favorites, but I'm not getting my hopes up. It's in fate's hand now, so let's hope I gave fate a good lot to choose from.
I want to start by confessing that I spend A LOT of time on the internet. Much of it is productive. I read MFA websites as I narrow down the list of programs I plan to apply to. I study online for the GRE. I blog here, I edit the Saturday Poetry Series on As It Ought To Be, I write for the recently launched opinion editorial syndicate iPinion, and I occasionally find the time to do a little work on my poetry project blog.
Finding the time for all of those activities is hard enough. But really, I've got ten-to-twelve good hours in the day to work, and I'm lucky if I actually work for a solid four or five. And this was the case when I was employed full-time in a 40-hour-per-week job.
So where does the time go? I believe the answer is that the internet is the biggest time-sucker on the planet. Aside from the actual work I do, all I do on the internet is check my email and facebook. Yet I can easily hop on the internet to do those two things and find myself down the road an hour (or more!) with nothing to show for my time.
My girlfriend and I were talking last night and she confessed she routinely checks Dlisted to procrastinate from work. In the time she's spent at Dlisted she easily could have done the task she was putting off twice!
We ALL do it. This is why many companies block access to sites like facebook from company computers. But not all do. And those of us who work from home don't have that imposed restraint.
If you find the internet sucking the productivity right out of you, if you're like many of us and simply can't help yourself, there is a product called Freedom that will block the internet on your computer for you for up to eight hours. You tell the program when to block the internet and how long to block it for, and it shall set you free.
The internet sucks the time out of life. No question. It is the single-biggest reason I am not as productive as I want to be. But there is far more going on in This Unemployed Life than just dicking around on the net.
While I am writing this I am procrastinating from some notes I should be making regarding poetry publishing. I have two GRE study guides sitting next to me that are overdue and need to be returned to the library today, unread. Later tonight my GRE study group is meeting at my apartment.
I have to drive across town today to deposit my unemployment check. I can't simply take it to the local ATM because I moved my money from the bastards at BofA, chose a bank based on its merits, and now I can't deposit money without a 40-minute round-trip drive. And don't think for one second that the good people of EDD would be so kind as to provide direct deposit to its poor recipients.
On a good week the gym eats up an hour or two a day. Luckily I've injured my shoulder and am on a break from the gym this week, freeing up a little time. Starting next week I'm in a memoir writing class that will eat up my Thursday nights. Every other Monday I have guitar lessons. I am volunteering to help mediate a friend's custody situation including writing up the final agreement between the parents.
This weekend I have three different sets of social plans on Saturday alone. Today I had to turn down an offer to give a reading for the UC Berkeley Extension because it conflicted with Bay to Breakers. One weekend in June I have a bachelor party, two weddings, and a book club all in the span of one weekend.
Somewhere in there I have to register, study for, and pass the GRE with flying colors. I have to choose and polish a selection of my best poems for grad school writing samples. I have to write individualized personal statements for the applications to twelve separate graduate schools. I have to try to get some work published to bolster my literary CV. All this while continuing my weekly contributions to the aforementioned blogs and syndicates.
The truth is, I am writing this entry in my robe. I am still in the clothes I woke up in. I haven't even considered taking a shower yet today. If my stomach didn't grumble I wouldn't even find the time to eat.
People assume that because I am unemployed I have a lot of free time. The truth is, I can't remember the last time I had this many things on my plate. The struggle is how to balance it all, where do your priorities lie. If you can sort that out and master the art of effectively managing your time then you must not be on facebook.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." - Mark Twain
Perspective is EVERYTHING.
I live on $1,900 a month and today I discovered that Amy's (organic vegetarian food producer extraordinaire) canned chili is NOT delicious. (Try their frozen lasagna. Mmm hmm.) I only get out of the house to go to the gym and for social gatherings because A) I have no job to go to everyday, B) the (unpaid) work I do all revolves around the computer, and C) I am lazy*.
*This last point is sometimes hard for people to believe because I'm licensed to practice law and my next career move is toward my PhD, so I will clarify. I am PHYSICALLY lazy. Mentally I'm kind of a big deal. : )
Anyway, today's post is clearly going to be a bit rambly. My point is that I am broke and unemployed and eat canned food. Oh, and despite my previously held beliefs, being broke has not resulted in my longed-for bikini-body-ness. *sigh*
I could be upset about the state of things. I could be despondent.
Instead, I am happy. I feel blessed. I have a roof over my head, an amazing support system comprised of friends family and my boyfriend, food to eat (even if it's canned and even if it prevents me from being ready for a bikini), and enough money to pay my basic bills. I have more than many many people in this world, in this country. And to see things in that manner, to be happy and feel blessed for what I do have instead of focusing on what I have not, is an exercise in mastering perspective.
Thanks to David Lacy of the in-development syndicate tentatively named iPinion Syndicate (and slated to feature yours truly as a contributor - shameful self-promotion, I know) for the head's up.
MSNBC claims that 'Obamanomics' is working.
I find myself having a hard time even pronouncing that word. Say it with me now: "O-ba-man-no-mics."
As for me, I was one of those early ship-jumpers who became disenchanted with Obama when he showed what I believed to be his true colors during his first year. I have been *slightly* revived with his step toward repealing the Don't Ask Don't Tell Policy and with the success of the health care bill (though for me, without a public option, it wasn't the success I had hoped for).
Still, I am not yet convinced. I fear Obama is another Herbet Hoover, when I was really hoping he was our next Roosevelt.
I am also loathe to trust what the corporate media has to say regarding the recovery of the economy. I fear the media is telling us that it is recovering in an effort to make us spend money out of a false belief that it is recovering. If we believe it's recovering, we'll be more likely to spend than save, and as a result the economy will in fact recover. Sort of a reverse-catch-22.
Still, whether or not the economy is actually recovering is an important point for unemployed Americans and therefore for This Unemployed Life. As with Obama in general, I'll believe it when I see it. And as always, this blog takes a stance, but encourages you to form your own opinions.
So what do you think? Is 'Obamanomics' working?
Thanks to Shannon at Cinnaholic for sharing this interesting article.
The author appears to be anonymous. Comments cannot be posted. The blog itself appears to have been created for the sole purpose of publishing this one article. So what does it have to say that's so top secret? Well, it's anti-American propaganda, in truth. And Big Brother doesn't like it.
The information line in the blog reads "Posted in Truth by lancefreeman76 on April 5, 2010." Even if the article can be traced back to the man behind lancefreeman76, perhaps he felt comfortable posting this article because he's already fled the country.
This is America. Where we technically have freedom of speech and are allowed to critique our government. But as "America: The Grim Truth" points out:
"America is actually among the least free countries on earth. Your piss is tested, your emails and phone calls are monitored, your medical records are gathered, and you are never more than one stray comment away from writhing on the ground with two Taser prongs in your ass."
Read More
Thanks to Demos for the head's up.
According to a report released today by the Economic Policy Institute, America's young workers account for 26.4 percent of unemployed workers, even though they make up 13.5 percent of the overall labor force.
Tula Connell, in a blog for AFL CIO, has this to say:
"The Kids Aren’t Alright" also describes the unique challenges facing jobless young workers, those between the ages of 16 and 24. With no prior work history, many lack a safety net of personal savings and do not qualify for unemployment insurance. Workers under age 35 also have more debt, relative to assets, than any other age group."
Well, I can certainly speak to that last point. With $130,000 in student loan debt, about $10,000 in credit card debt, and the only asset to my name being my 10-year-old car with a blue book value of about $3,500, I do believe I am the example of which Ms. Connell speaks.
Good luck to us, youth of America! Between the sheer number of us out there, baby boomers still working and unable to retire in this economy, the catch-22 that you can't get experience until you've got experience, no savings, and a high debt-to-assets ratio, it's no wonder we're the first generation not expected to do better than our parents!
I've said it once and I'll say it again: now is the time to follow your dreams! Financial security may not be within your grasp, at least not any time soon, so why on earth would you not be doing what you love???!!! Read More
Because I am a human being with a life outside this blog, I often forget that my readers only know as much of my story as I tell them. At some point in the last month or so I decided that my path away from the law and toward writing will include a trip to graduate school. Somehow I have neglected to fill you in, faithful reader, so here's the story.
When I chose to go to law school I had been ready to apply to MFA programs in creative writing. When I decided to forgo the latter for the former, I promised myself that one day I would get my MFA in creative writing, if only for myself. In fact last year I had met with professors at USF to learn more about their night school MFA program. Good thing I didn't go that route, because I would have incurred $35,000 or more in student loan debt (icing on the cake, really, for the $130,000 of law school debt I already have).
At some point in my recent process of self-discovery one of my co-editors on the blog As It Ought To Be contacted me with some invaluable information. He let me know that there are a number of MFA programs across the country that fund. That is, they waive your tuition and pay you a modest living stipend and in exchange (usually, but not at all schools) you teach a class for the university each semester. So you can get your MFA without incurring a dime of student loan debt. In fact, they pay you to go to school.
What? Did I die and go to heaven?
I was summoned by the EDD for an in-person appointment today. This is the first interaction I've had with EDD outside of applying for Unemployment Insurance and receiving my checks bi-monthly.
I assumed this was a one-on-one appointment where they would grill me about my job search and make sure I was actually trying to find work. Instead what I found was a workshop filled with 24 other unemployed people in the same boat as me. The workshop was slated to be an hour long because immediately after it conclusion another hour long workshop was scheduled to start.
If they are doing these workshops every hour on the hour, back to back, daily, there could be upwards of 1,000 unemployed people a week attending these workshops. Yikes.
The workshop itself turned out to be mostly the handing out of fliers, with some explanation or highlights of what the fliers had to offer. Each of us was given a 17-page packet and 17 individual fliers. So much for green!
Here is a map of unemployment changes in the country's largest metro areas, according to Moody's Economy and Brookings:
Is it just me, or is it odd to see a map of the U.S. that is red on the coasts and blue in the middle?
We are all affected by the current state of America's health care system. I would venture to say that even Republicans are affected, though they are loathe to admit it.
Those of us who are unemployed may be more directly affected by yesterday's vote to pass the health care reform bill. I, for one, have no health insurance since losing my job, cannot afford COBRA, and would have benefited immensely from a public option. Millions of Americans are in a far worse state than me, with actual health issues that require medication and treatment. These people may have no coverage at all or may be covered by Medicare or Medicaid, and may be being denied coverage even with those plans.
I have heard a lot of chatter from the Left around this health care reform bill. Today mostly I see people claiming victory. Overall it seems to me the Left has gone the way it often does these days, with an "it's better than nothing" attitude. It may be better than nothing, but when did we become a group of people who believe that "better than nothing" is the best we're going to get, and that we shouldn't fight for more?
Even the voice of Pro Choice America, representing the interest that took one of the biggest beatings with the version of the health care reform bill that passed, rolled over and took one for the team:
NARAL's official statement.
Although his opinions can be very over-the-top and slanted, Michael Moore has something to say about the health care bill, and is one member of the Left who isn't sugar coating it:
Michael Moore's take on the health care reform bill.
At least as far as the pro-choice issue is concerned, you can do something about it:
Let the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee (DCCC) know where you stand.
All in all I think we can all agree that the version of the health care reform bill soon to come across Obama's desk is a step in the right direction. Now, what will it take for us to become a group that not only steps, but leaps?
As you may recall from my previous post, my uncle is the person who took a special interest in my career and guided me toward the law. I will not say he pushed me into it or forced me into it- it was completely my choice. However, he did sell me on the idea. And I bought in.
My uncle loves me very much. He didn't have children of his own, and he has been a part of raising me and my brother our entire lives. He is very much like a second father. In many ways he is more of a traditional father- he is the one with expectations and who I feel more likely to disappoint by going my own way. For my uncle it was very much his success that I followed his advice and chose the law.
For the past eight years I don't think the two of us have talked about much else. Whether he was lecturing me or joking with me, the law has been the common ground between my uncle and I for nearly a decade.
When I learned that I was laid off, I decided to wait to tell my father and my uncle until I knew what my plan of action was.
I waited to tell my father because I knew that he would worry. My father is ill and has enough to worry about. I waited to tell my uncle because I was downright afraid of his reaction. He wasn't going to yell at me or hit me or anything, but he was going to be overbearing and full of lectures and opinions and ideas for how I could get my career back on track. And deep down inside I knew I didn't want to get my career back on track, at least, not in the way he had in mind.
By the end of my 30 days' notice with my firm I knew that I was leaving the law and that I wanted to focus on writing. I had some semblance of a plan. At the very least I knew what I did not want to do, and so it was time to "come out" to my dad and my uncle.
It really did feel to me like a coming out. It carried with it all the same fears and anxieties. Fear of rejection, fear of disappointment, fear of being told that I was a let down to my family. And in many ways those fears were realized.
It has come to my attention based on the questions people have asked me in person, in comments here, and on my facebook profile, that I may have failed to clearly communicate that I am not going back to the law, and why.
The short answer is the law is not for me. The long answer is, well, a bit longer.
It makes some people feel better when I note the following, and so for your sake I note it here. When I say that I am not going back to the law it is perhaps more accurate to say that I view the law as a carer that I will always have to fall back on.
However, if and when I go back to the law it will be because I have failed in my attempts to be successful in my other endeavors. I have yet to fail at anything I have put my all into in this life, and I do not plan to fail now.
Eight years ago I had my BA in Literature (Creative Writing) from UC Santa Cruz and I had plans to go on to get my MFA in creative writing. My eventual dream was to be a professor of Literature and Creative Writing at a university.
My uncle the lawyer seized what he saw as a window of opportunity. Before I applied to graduate schools he took me aside and gave me his sales pitch on why I should go to law school and get my JD instead. His main selling point was that a JD would open up more opportunities than an MFA, and that if I truly wanted to be a professor I would be of more value to a school with my JD than with my MFA. The secondary selling points were that a career in the law offers job security and a great salary.
I bought in. I really did enter law school believing there would be a world of possibilities open to me because of it, believing that is was one path to becoming a professor, and believing that I would not become a practicing lawyer.
However, by the time you have been through four years of law school you don't believe you've got any choice other than to take the bar exam. And once you've passed the bar, you don't believe you're qualified to do anything other than practice law, nor do you see any other way of beginning to pay off the enormous student loan debt you've incurred.
And so I came to find myself practicing law.
As I have told and re-told my story to friends and family in recent weeks, a theme has emerged. People have been telling me that I shouldn't regret my law career and accomplishments.
I want to make it very clear that I have no regrets. It is a huge accomplishment to graduate from law school. It is an even bigger accomplishment to pass the California bar exam on your first try. I am very proud to say that I had a successful law career for three years. During that career I chaired a trial. I helped numerous parents ensure the best interests of their children were met. I got a number of people divorced. I fought to get restraining orders for abused people and I helped a number of women break the cycle of violence and free themselves from emotionally, psychologically, and physically abusive relationships. I am exceptionally proud of my accomplishments. They are by no means a small feat.
If I had to start it all over again tomorrow, however, I would not.
As of tomorrow I will no longer have health insurance. I have been with Kaiser my entire life. I'm not a huge fan of Kaiser personally, I think they have a lot of flaws and I think health insurance is a real racket, but even with less-than-ideal coverage, having health insurance is better than not.
Of course now that I am unemployed my former employer is no longer paying for my health coverage. I received my COBRA packet in the mail informing me of my options there. While I find the COBRA packet about as perplexing as I found the EDD website, it appears to say the following. I qualify for a reduced rate from the rate my former employer paid. My reduced rate appears to be $287 per month. It appears that I qualify for this reduced rate because my employment was ended involuntarily, and it appears that this reduced rate is available to me for a temporary amount of time. I cannot tell whether that temporary amount of time is six months or eighteen months or somewhere in-between. And there also appears to be the possibility that I qualify for an even more reduced rate than $287 a month because my employer initially miscategorized my reason for unemployment.
For now and until I am able to look into it further, let's assume I qualify for COBRA subsidized health insurance of $287 a month. If you've been reading my blog you know that I believe I'll have "disposable income" of about $300 a month after paying for the necessities of my current life. And you are aware that I am likely dedicating that $300 to working to pay off my credit card debt.
It is certainly a sad state of affairs when a person has to choose between having health insurance and paying off their debt. It is a sad time for this country when it's neighboring Canada, many (all?) countries in the EU, even Israel, all provide public health care while America, the leader of the free world, does not.
I have a little over $11,000 in credit card debt. Now while I personally view this as a large amount to get out from under, I have learned in my recent research that this is a relatively small amount compared to most people today. Lucky me.
It should be noted that most of my credit card debt was incurred while I was in law school. Where my student loans didn't go far enough to support me, I supplemented with credit cards. I very rarely use my credit cards these days. Mostly they sit in a drawer where I can't access them easily, and I work toward paying them off.
Due to some mistakes that were made a few years ago (mostly late payments, sometimes 60 or 90 days late) as well as to high balances compared to available credit, the interest rates on my credit cards mostly hover around the 29.99% mark. This makes the $11,000 of debt actually a lot more (over time), and makes it so that making the minimum payments each month (or even double the minimum payments!) doesn't really do much to shrink the principal owed.
With a wave of impending plans and the world as my oyster, I set out on my adventure as a writer. Inevitably, concern rolls in.
Apparently it is not enough for one to be a writer. One must make money as well. Fair enough. I am sure that in the long run my writing will earn me a decent living. And I am aware that in the mean time a day may very soon come when I have to do other things to facilitate my writing career. I may need to wait tables or bartend, I may need to be an attorney part-time, or, preferably, I may do something else within the realm of my passion such as teaching writing classes or working in publishing.
OK, so my immediate plan is set, I have back burner ideas in place if and when needed, but there is something else. ... What was it? ...
Oh, yes. How does one actually make money as a writer?
Being successfully published is the easiest answer. There are superstars like J.K. Rowling (it took her five years to finish the first Harry Potter book, by the way). There are a plethora of others making less than Oprah but still earning a decent-to-awesome wage with their published books. And then of course there are those who complete novels but don't publish, and those who do get published but whose books don't sell. So even within the arena of published authors there is a sliding scale of pay range.
So there is the writing and sale of books. What else? Well, there's bloggers, newspaper columnists, magazine columnists, etc. How do these writers make money?
I've got a girlfriend in New York who falls into this category. She has her own blog that was opted for a book. She's technically making it. In the time she's been a writer in New York she's had a number of jobs in the writing arena, including working in a publishing house and for a magazine. So I know at least one person who is making it as a writer, and her path has inevitably required a significant amount of work other than writing.
I've got another girlfriend who is a professional blogger, employed for all intents and purposes by a blog. I don't know exactly what this entails, but I know she pays her rent and does not appear to be starving. I have no idea how she got that job or what her background was before being a blogger. I'll have to follow up on that one.
So of my two successful writer friends, both have some hand in blogging. I, of course, have this blog and another blog of my own, but these are strictly projects of passion. That is, I have no advertisers and make no money from my own blogs. But I am all for the idea of blogging elsewhere and earning my living as a writer doing so.
So how does one earn money as a blogger? Well I can tell you how one does not earn money as a blogger. My search today on this subject took me to a number of online blogging communities that have a hit-based commission structure. I'm not going to take too much time to explain it here. The bottom line is that most of these writers appear to earn a few cents or maybe a few dollars per article. They have to get millions of hits on a particular article if they want to earn any substantial amount of money for writing it. Oh, and a number of these sites require the writers to do their own marketing, seek out advertisers, etc. to increase the amount of money they can make per article.
If I wanted to go into sales and marketing, I would have gone into sales and marketing. I want to write. Can't I just write?!
Well, ladies and gentlemen, the answer for today appears to be no, or, rather, not yet. One day I will earn my living solely from writing. I can't tell you what I'll do along the way or what opportunities and adventures will unfold for me. But I can tell you this: I'm more excited at the thought of working in a coffee shop to facilitate my writing career than I am at the thought of selling out my dreams for the idea of "security."
To say it was difficult to leave the warm sunny weather, paradise beaches, and great cheap food of Playa Del Carmen to return to chilly San Francisco is an understatement. To say it was hard to shed my vacation life for the heavy skin of office work is the understatement of the year.
In Playa I felt the freedom of the new life that I have chosen. I wrote, I read, I exercised my creative muscles. I lived the true excitement of the path that lies ahead.
It was odd returning to the office from vacation with only twelve days left of office life. And beyond odd, there is something of it that is akin to serving out the last days of a prison sentence. In a way, what is "only" twelve days seems like an eternity when I know that my freedom, my life, lies just beyond those twelve long days.
And something inside me has changed as well. What used to be small annoyances that came with the territory of my job today I found nearly unbearable. I am elated at the thought of the people and situations that I will never have to deal with again. And I am even more overjoyed at the thought of spending my days thinking, writing, and creating. I am more excited about the thought of scraping by on meager wages and filling my days doing what I love than I could ever again be at the thought of traditional success.
Countdown: Eleven days to freedom.
I am on vacation in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico. This trip has been planned, in one form or another, for a year-and-a-half. It is poor timing that between buying the plane tickets / reserving the hotel and my arrival I was laid off. But the plans were set, I had vacation time to burn before my last day at work, and truthfully, I really need this vacation.
Still, it is a unique spot to be in. Even though we are in a third world country and our beach vacation is cheaper than most, it is still more costly than it would be if I were at home, collecting my nuts like a squirrel does for the upcoming winter.
Now is technically a time when I should be living small, financially that is, and saving. Very soon my paychecks will stop coming in.
As I'm in this tropical paradise, on a vacation I technically can't afford, spending money I should be saving for my very near future, my relationship to money is on my mind.
I know I can make life work on the very minimal income I will soon have. I know the sacrifices I have to make to live this way. I know that there will seldom be dinners out, that I won't be able to buy drinks at happy hour, that personal luxuries will have to be cut. And I am on board with this. The incredible freedom and opportunity that is mine as a result of my choice makes living on a meager income completely doable.
When I think of my relationship to money I realize that it is my relationship to other people that I fear having to alter. For instance, when I was looking to buy gifts for friends today my boyfriend said to me, "Your friends aren't going to expect you to get them all gifts. They know you're unemployed. You can't buy gifts for everyone."
In many ways I am more dedicated to my family and friends than to myself. I will sooner spend money on a gift for them, or buy their dinner when I know they can't afford it. And that has to change. At least for now.
I have to defer my student loans. I have to cancel my vegetable delivery service. I am going to be eating many of my meals from cans. So I certainly can't express love with money I don't have.
In one way this can be viewed as a sad reality, but I am not in the frame of mind where I wish to view anything negatively. I have been given one of the greatest gifts a person can be given in life - the opportunity to do what I love with my time - and whatever sacrifices I have to make for that reality are well worth it.
My lack of decent income will not last forever. One day I will be doing well enough that I can resume showing my love in whatever way I please. And when I do, I will be living my life my on my terms. And truthfully, the sacrifices I make along the way will only make me appreciate my success even more. It won't be easy, but it will absolutely be worth it.
I spent four years in law school (two while working full time), a year studying for the bar, taking the bar, waiting for bar results, and finding out I passed the bar, four-and-a-half horrible months of a near-hopeless job search, and nearly three years practicing law.
There was not a moment during the eight years that I gave to the law when I thought, "Yes, THIS is what I am supposed to do. I love this." No. Instead, I thought law school was the hardest thing I'd ever done, until I took the bar, and then I thought THAT was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Practicing law was certainly better, but it was never my passion, and I always felt like I had sold out my dreams for security and financial well-being.
But why?
It's hard to remember the frame of mind I was in eight years ago when I decided to go to law school. But with some recent soul-searching and the help of a good book and a good therapist, the truth underlying my entire adult career life has become clear.
I gave WAY too much credence to the advice of other people. I listened when they worried I would never succeed as a writer. And I listened when they said, "Go to law school and the world will be your oyster."
Well guess what, the world IS my oyster, but not because I'm a lawyer. The world is my oyster because I finally woke up. Today I finally realize (albeit eight years later) that if I follow my passion, if I put my energy into the things I enjoy in life as opposed to the things that everyone else thinks are worthwhile, I will be far more successful than I ever was doing something I didn't enjoy.
I went to law school because I was afraid I would fail as a writer. I feared I would fail as a writer because everyone else feared I would.
Eureka, I finally get it! Those people who instilled fear in me, they were afraid. I am not afraid. I believe in my abilities, and I believe that if I put hard work into the things I am passionate about, I will absolutely succeed.
So I am done listening to the advice of others that comes from a place of fear and anxiety. I am about to embark on a journey that I should have embarked on eight years ago. I have been given a second chance, and this time, I'm listening to me.
Last night I debuted my blog on facebook. This was also how I outed myself to the world at large (or at least my facebook friends) as unemployed.
The response was what you would expect. A number of condolences, some hang in theres, a fair amount of surprise/tell me more, and, I would guess, not a lot of people actually taking the time to leave the comfort of facebook to read my blog. Oh, and I had a few congratulations/you are capable enough to do anything you put your mind to. These were the responses I valued the most, and they'll get attention in their own post soon enough.
One response to my post was a comment blaming my current predicament, which is representative of the current state of our country, on the baby boomers. I pondered for a moment, wrote my friend for clarification, and confirmed my suspicion that what he meant by this was that there are simply too many people in the baby boomer generation, those people parented my generation, and now here my generation sits: jobless, money-less, with uncertain futures, and being the first generation that is not expected to do better than our parents.
Okay, there is logic in this line of thought. There ARE a lot of baby boomers. The DID have a lot of kids. And those kids DO make up the current generation of laid-off professionals and the newly-graduated unemployed.
But really, what did the baby boomers do? They didn't choose to be born when they were. And you can't really blame their parents either- it is a human being's biological function in life to procreate (despite our having evolved beyond this in many ways). So who really IS at fault? Well, our government, of course.
That's right. The U.S. government chose to fight in World War II, and that war directly resulted in the baby boom. Were we a peaceful Utopian society I would still have a job today. Or I wouldn't exist. Either way, I wouldn't be writing about my unemployed life, and our country wouldn't be in this mess.
So the moral of this story is this: War is bad. Our government is corrupt. Down with the man, he ruins everything.
Today I ventured into the world of "what are my options." Since I have sent out about ten resumes in the past week without a single call or email in response, unemployment is a likely future. And since I went to LAW SCHOOL, it is not one I am familiar with or ever thought I'd have to be. So of course I had some questions.
My first question, naturally, was how much money will I get with unemployment, exactly? The answer, based on my attorney-income, appears to be $1,900 a month. Which is the absolute max a person can get in unemployment benefits. To many, many, MANY people in the world, this would be A LOT OF MONEY. To someone who has been living paycheck-to-paycheck making about $4,000 a month net, this means it is time to re-evaluate my lifestyle in a big way.
My monthly rent is $1,000; let's not even talk about my $130,000 in student loan debt! Therefore, $1,900 a month is not enough money. This is a problem. I happen to be trained in the business of solutions. What, then, are my possible solutions?
Thought number one: Perhaps I can supplement this income. Yes, that sounds good. I can practice a little family law on my own. No overhead, no office, no staff. Work from home, and make a little extra cash to bring my monthly income up to around what I was making when I was still employed.
No, says EDD. Well, actually, what EDD says is this: Go ahead, Pearl, make my day. You make that extra money. ... Go on. ... Good girl. Now, GIVE IT TO ME! Yes, that's right; every dollar I make while receiving unemployment benefits serves to reduce my unemployment benefits by that same dollar.
Tell me, please, is there a universe in which this concept makes sense? Is EDD encouraging me to work, in any way, by letting me know that if I work I will only screw myself out of EDD benefits?
Basically, unless I am able to make more than $1,900 a month and do away with the need for unemployment in the first place, working to supplement my EDD income is futile.
Under the table work is out - it's unethical and I'd lose my license to practice law. Independent contract work, selling oranges on the street, cleaning gutters - that's all off the table.
So my worst-case-scenario plan, as of today, is this: Live on $1,900 a month. Defer my student loans. Cut costs. Pay the minimum each month on my credit cards. Don't use the heater. Eat food from cans. Take advantage of the inevitable weight loss that comes along with not being able to afford to eat out or drink.
Oh, and write! Because I'm going to have a lot of free time. So here I am, friends! Embracing my unemployment future, and writing.
Yes, that's right. Yours truly, divorce lawyer extraordinaire, was laid off a week ago Friday.
Why would a stellar, talented, capable, amazing person such as myself be laid off, you ask? Here's the deal.
In our current economy, people can't afford to get divorced. Couples are staying together because they can't afford two separate households, they can't afford to deal with their worthless house, and they especially can't afford attorney fees.
My firm is like a ghost town. The phones are not ringing. There are no client intake appointments. Existing clients are finding ways to do much of the work on their own. And I, ladies and gentlemen, am therefore out of a job.
With my future uncertain, and trying to operate from a place of excitement over the possibilities instead of from a place of fear about how I'll pay my rent, I begin my journey in this unemployed life.
I invite you to come along for the ride.
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