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?
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