Branching Out

There is a tremendous upside to being under perpetual financial siege and living the “before” part of a Lifetime movie. It takes so damn little to make me leap for joy now. And this is really, really good because it used to take so damn much to even move the needle.

Allow me share some of the little miracles that have kept the light of hope burning. Just this morning, I was thinking that I wanted to get a little Christmas tree. Without funds, I thought of making a stealth raid with tree trimming shears to my neighbor’s Evergreen patch. I can never keep the different pines straight but these are the trees with long, soft needles. They called to me like the ghost of Christmas past. Then, lo and behold, as I was walking back from the store, I noticed there were several of said branches just lying there in the alley. Enough for a fragrant little arrangement of some sort. All without having to resort to misdemeanor defoliation. I felt as if I had won the Yuletide lottery.

And of course, no Lifetime movie would ever be complete without scenes of touching support from friends. Several friends have come though with major monetary gifts just as I was in my darkest hour. My dear friend, Hillary, has been a daily source of comfort, laughs and good advice. Ditto for Mike. And my friend and legal counsel, Stuart (chicagolandbankruptcy.com), actually called me from the grocery aisle and took “my order” as he dropped a week’s worth of groceries in the cart. I was so touched I could barely speak.

I’m not typically one to throw around the “I’m blessed” language. So, I won’t. I’m too busy decking the halls with found foliage.

A New Kind of White Collar Crime

Simply put, it's a crime against humanity and all our futures. We're putting qualified, college-educated professionals out to pasture prematurely at an alarming rate. But, all is certainly not lost.

Yesterday, I received a very nice e-mail from Diane Alexander at United Professionals .
Barbara Ehrenreich, best-selling author of Bait & Switch, as well as Nickel & Dimed, formed the group as a way for unemployed and underemployed white collar folks to have a voice and effect change in the vital areas of health insurance and unemployment benefits among other things. Diane asked me to write a guest blog on their site, as well as permission to add my link to their site. It's nice to be wanted. I had forgotten that feeling!

The UP site is a treasure trove of commiseration, as well as real tools like legal resources, job assistance, and news about advocacy and lobbying efforts. Check it out. You will be amazed at just how many folks are out there with true stories of displacement and economic hardship. These people, like myself, have spent long careers contributing to the economy and building the very structures that have since leveled us.

My hope is to utilize this newfound community as more than an opportunity to kvetch and whine. God knows, I don't need yet another outlet for that. I hope to share the wisdom and survivor spirit of my fellow warriors as we refuse to take things lying down.

Once More into the Fray

Fifty is the new 46. On a good day. In indirect sunlight. My delusion places me right there with the likes of the grand dames of ubergraceful aging--Diane Keaton, Sigourney Weaver, Susan Sarandon. You read about their rejection of surgical intervention in magazines like More. And you think, "you go, girl," right before you haul out the spackle, trying to achieve a happy medium between aging hipster and circus clown. Not too much color. Light-diffusing foundation. (Yes, I will gladly spend my last $10 on this modern-day miracle. In a food vs. makeup cage match, make-up inevitably triumphs.)

I artfully dab a little pinky-bronze lip gloss on which immediately seeps into the lip lines around my mouth. Next, I choose a slightly trendy though entirely age-appropriate outfit which I boldly accessorize. I look in the mirror and realize I look like a contemporary version of Auntie Mame.

Then, it's off to one of the infrequent freelance gigs at a downtown Chicago ad agency. I will spend the day mixing it up with twenty-somethings in the businessplace version of a mosh pit.
Low cubicles. Insane noise levels. Cell phones ringing in addition to regular phones.

Cloaked in my carefully arranged look, I remind myself of two important things....
When I hear, "hey dude, it's time for the meeting," chances are I'm being summoned.

And always remember to tuck my AARP card into the deep recesses of my wallet.

Decay Watch

They don’t have a County Hospital for dental emergencies. Explains why so many poor people have obviously bad teeth. Cracked smiles. Black, green, brown smiles. Great gaping spaces. No porcelain crowns or fancy bridgework. Hell, no prophylaxis.( I always loved that word.) Dental work is freakin’ pricey. This is one of those obvious facts that are just beginning to sink in as I now have gone well over a year without a clean and check. Even before I lapsed, I became very vocal in what I would or would not permit according to price. X-rays, again? “No thank you.” Replace that filling? “Well, actually, it seems to be doing fine. Despite the fact that it’s 20 years old.” Hey, just like everyone else, dentists have to make a living. However, as I fail dismally in that regard, dental maintenance has taken a back seat to eating. So, instead, I obsess over my teeth. I fear that tiny fissure in my front tooth will soon make like the San Andreas fault. There seems to be a sensitive spot on the back of my front lower tooth. It looks slightly dark like decay. Oh my. There’s a black speck under the amalgam filling in my rear molar. Hey, that filling is only four years old and it was damn expensive! When all these dental imperfections manifest into their utmost, devastating destiny, I will remember with aching melancholy the swirling water of the spit bowl.

Never Say Never

I am now doing all the things I vowed I'd never do....

1. Rinsing out zip-loc bags for reuse
2. Using single-ply toilet paper (I like Angel Soft)
3. Using generic paper towels
4. Appropriating sugar packets, butter pats, napkins and jelly from restaurants
5. Adding water to the shampoo bottle/detergent bottle to get the last dregs
6. Eating cereal for lunch
7. Reading library books, rather than buying books
8. Using Suave shampoo
9. Actually mailing in the rebates
10. Looking for holiday parties to crash for the free nibbles and drinks

Um....What Was the Question Again?

It’s the questions that will kill you. All the “have you trieds?” and the “what about Blah-blah?” Why aren’t you working in retail or at Starbucks?” “Can you declare bankruptcy?” “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?” “Maybe you should call so-and-so at XYZ agency…..” (ok, that wasn’t a question) “Are you working?” “Would you consider a lower-level position?” “Why can’t you declare bankruptcy?” “What’s the difference between Chapter 7 and Chapter 13?” “What are you going to do if you get sick?” "Do you have insurance?" “Are you going to sell your house?” “Have you listed your house yet?” “Have you thought about having a roommate?” “How about going back to school?” “Are you out there networking?” “What about a home equity loan?” “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO??????????????????????????”

People mean well. And hell, they’re just as sick of hearing about it as I am answering the questions. The tricky part is that the situation is so daunting, so gargantuan, so overwhelming, you just can’t skirt around it. It's damn near impossible not to talk about it, not to ask questions about it. Not only is the elephant in the living room, but the pesky pachyderm is also hosing up the peanuts out of the candy dish, knocking over the coffee table, shitting on the carpet.

But, hey, what do you say we try to ignore it anyway? Let’s make a pact. I won’t whine if you don’t ask questions. (Cue the SFX: Uncomfortable silence/drip-drip of the faucet/wind whistling across an open plain.)

Negatively Positive?

Yesterday, I asked my life coach, Dr. Joni Carley, if she had read my blog. She had and said she liked it but that I needed to curb my tendency to put "negative energy" out there, even though she appreciated the authenticity of the entries. I guess I just don't know how telling it like it is would be considered negative. Are all the commentators on forums like the one on Barbara Ehrenreich's site (author of Bait and Switch and Nickel and Dimed) just a puddled mass of self-pitying goo? Or, are we people who need a voice to express the travesty of unemployment, underemployment, "middle-ageism," and all its subsequent economic hardships?

Yes, I know I don't have cancer. Or live in the African wasteland. Or find myself in the middle of a war-ravaged country. Or use a wheelchair. But, I have been struggling for some time now.
And some days, finding the energy to write is the only positive thing I do.

Just for the record, Joni is wonderful and has helped me a lot in the last year. She's located in the Philly area but does most of her work via phone sessions. Check her out!