Notes from the Unemployment Line

When last we heard from “Chastity,” she was alternately railing against the doucheface who stole her wallet and rejoicing at finally being offered the part-time job she’d been hoping for. Today the good news continues.

Since the impending doom of last week, life has brightened considerably. First, as some of you know, the U.S. Census has hired me! It’s short term—eight weeks—but it should be interesting work. I start training in early April. Second, my appeal has gone through—UI is issuing me a check for all of my held benefits. I called the Telecenter today to check up on things, and the woman nearly cried with me when she gave me the news. It was a sweet moment: I, blubbering, thanked her profusely while she congratulated me for my persistence.

And speaking of niceness and getting weepy, I want to thank all of you for your kind words last week. Things looked so, so bleak—I had visions (fueled by caffeine withdrawal) of a headlong slide into real destitution. I got a little sniffly at all of the lovely comments you left! This whole experience has been so alienating; reading words of support, as well as lots of great, pragmatic advice, I felt less alone, and less overwhelmed.

I have also taken up some of your suggestions: I applied for food stamps this week, though at this point I don’t know that they’ll be necessary. My interview is next week. Another reader sent in some advice on how to sell the car (thank you!)—in a manner that won’t require lying to anyone about the ticking time bomb in the engine. On the last day of March, after my insurance policy expires, I’ll shepherd my elderly beast to the auto-recyclers. I expect more tears then; this feels like I’m having the car put down, as you would a geriatric pet, though it’s obviously the right thing to do. Maybe there’s a great Subaru Heaven somewhere in the sky, because that’s where my baby deserves to go.

Further on the jobs side, the last week has put me face-to-face with the New Economy. The dearth of writing jobs makes me think that freelancing—mixed with other piece-work—might be the only real way forward. Despite the shortage of actual writing jobs, compelling and persuasive content is still highly in demand. The question is whether companies will pay for that content, especially given that the price of labor is falling so precipitously. Experienced contract writers like me are an expensive alternative to full-time employees: to make $21 an hour (a fairly standard, if low, rate for copywriting) you need to charge $30 an hour. Fully a third of your income goes to taxes, and this is before you account for business equipment or paying for your own healthcare.

My inexperience and naivete have led me to make dumb mistakes as I come to negotiating the value of my labor. I recently interviewed with a small company, and agreed to assemble a small writing sample for them. The piece met with enthusiastic approval. We went through one whole revision cycle and were about to launch into another before I realized that what I was really doing was giving away my labor to people who should be paying me for it. Nor had we ever discussed the parameters of the role I might have—whether I’d join them permanently, or just freelance. Conversation came to a standstill when I suggested that this was an appropriate time to talk about how I might fit in with the organization. I’m hoping that I can continue the dialogue this week—I want to believe the best of this little company, and I want to work for them, too.

I can’t predict what the outcome will be on this job, but the process has sharpened me to treating my labor as my primary saleable asset. It benefits me and everyone else if I get paid, and if that pay is within reasonable market rates. Compliments and niceness don’t pay the bills—though if this job doesn’t work out, it won’t be a total loss. I now have a recent, up-to-date corporate copywriting sample in my portfolio. As with every other victory this week, success here will come from a mix of persistence and luck.

Have an unemployment story to share? Write to jobless@thestranger.com.

Photo by Kelly O