I didn’t work today. Instead, I went to the ESC (Employment Security Commission) office. Even though I was only there for 2 hours, but the “being jerked around” factor made it feel like a full day of work. As I was leaving, I called my husband to say, “I need a drink.” Wait a minute. I don’t drink. I settled for a decaf soy latte and a $40. shopping spree at Food Lion instead. It was a splurge-fest. I even bought a can of imported mushrooms for $1.50.
About 4 months ago, I got laid off from my full-time job. I created an account with the ESC, but never actually collected because I immediately got a part-time job, and this income, along with contract work from my previous employer, was enough to disqualify me from any benefits. Fair enough. I was working 20-30 hours a week, and making enough for us to get by.
Fast-forward to today. The part-time contract work is starting to dwindle. My assignments from my previous employer are slowly being parceled off to the real employees, the full-timers, and my work week is looking more like 15 hours a week instead of 30. The bills are still getting paid eventually, but not the brake jobs and broken faucets. Sooooo, it’s time to make some changes.
I should have been looking for my next client all along, but like most of us, procrastination got the better of me. With desperation now knocking on my door, it’s tempting to look for another full-time job. The security and the steady paycheck sure are nice. But then I reconsidered.
You see, in these 4 months of working from home, I’ve come to some conclusions about myself. I knew all along that I liked working from home, and working for myself. But now, I know for sure, it’s the only way to fly!
First of all, my dogs need me. I own a 65 pound Bernese Mountain dog named Bella. She is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had. She gets this pathetic look on her face whenever I put on work clothes. She needs at least 3 belly rubs per day, and when I come home from being gone more than 30 seconds, she cries “Mama” and other pitiful sounds that when translated would read, “Don’t you ever do that again.” Our other dog is equally needy, though less expressive. Second, I do my best work at night between the hours of 8:00pm and 11:00pm, and I don’t get going in the morning until around 10:00am. I’ve yet to meet an employer who would smile on those type of office hours.
The main reason, though, that I don’t want another full-time job is because I’m writing again. This secret passion had all but dried up during my 3 year 9-5 incarceration. I simply lacked the time and energy. A wise man I know once said, “Follow your passion and abundance will follow,” or something like that. I believe that is true, and it’s time to start living it. Once you figure out what God put you on this Earth to do, you should do it! You might not become a millionaire, but you will live a blessed life that will be successful in the ways that are most important.
With this decision in mind, and knowing that it might take some time to build up my freelance work hours, I decided to call up the unemployment office to see if I would still be eligible for benefits even though my account had sat dormant for 4 months. “Yes, you still are eligible for X amount per week,” she said, “but you need to come into the office to re-open your account.” Awesome! I packed myself up and headed to the local ESC.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I counted the cars. Not too bad. With unemployment the way it is, I had expected a line out the door of people holding out tin cans shaking their heads. Instead, I found only about 15 people diligently filling out applications and tapping away at computers. After signing in, I only had to wait 5 minutes for my name to be called.
The gentleman behind the desk was ever so nice. What a pleasant surprise! Kudos to these folks for keeping such a cheery and positive attitude in the midst of what I’m sure is not a roses and sunshine type of job. I was truly impressed. He set me up with an automated phone system, then I sat on hold for about 15 minutes, after which he let me go speak to a real person in the office.
I sat down in the cubicle of the real person, and explained my situation once again. A few moments later he announced that I was in the system, and ready to go. All I needed to do was start recording my job search details once a week. That was my cue. I could have exited the building unscathed, but I had to open my big mouth. “How does it work if I’m looking for part-time contract work, instead of a full-time job?” I asked.
“What? You’re not looking for a full-time job?” he said, incredulous. His eyes rolled. I expected him to push a panic button under his desk and call for help. “You are self-employed? ” he continued, as if it were a communicable disease.
“Uh, yeah. I work for myself, but it’s not enough right now, “ I said, bracing myself for the next blow.
“Well”, he said, with a heavy sigh, “you’ll have to fill out this form, and see if they will allow you to collect any benefits.”
I filled out their little form, and scrawled out some thoughts about why I deserved to get unemployment benefits even though (God forbid) I was not looking for traditional full-time employment.
As I was leaving, I asked how long it would take to process the form. “4 to 8 weeks,” he said. Finally exasperated, I said, “Well, by then I probably won’t need it anymore.”
“You can get back pay.”
“Great. I’ll just not eat for 4 to 8 weeks, and I should be fine, “ I thought to myself.
That’s ok. I’m not going to live my life expecting a government hand-out, or pay from my previous employer, however it is that it works, but I still am disappointed at the injustice and stupidity of this rule, even though I’m sure whoever made it up had their reasons.
As more and more people get laid off and large companies close their doors, it seems to be that the small businessman (or woman), the entrepreneur, is one of the things this country needs to help it get back on it’s feet. If, after getting laid off from “the man” my only option is to turn around and find another “man” to work for, who will then lay me off again, where is that going to get us?
Just because the big guys are shutting down and cutting back, this doesn’t change the number of people in the world, still able and willing to work, all needing food, clothing, shelter, goods and services. What are we going to do, all just lay down and die? No, of course not!
I’m not an economist, but it seems like one of the best things we can do to help the economy is to start new businesses. Maybe the result of this recession will be less mega-corporations and more small time business owners. That might actually be a beautiful thing. We might even see a resurgence of the small town feel, with people buying locally and helping each other. Wouldn’t that be neat?
Well, I’ve said enough. You get the picture. I’m thankful that the ESC exists. It is a great service, and at least those who fit their qualifications can get help. I will keep you posted. Who knows, maybe my little form will be well received. I will certainly let you know if it is.
Since I mentioned recycling, and since my laundry room (where I keep my recyclables) is about as clean as it’s going to get (for the picture), I decided to go ahead and write about it.
My first big attempt at recycling was a couple of years ago. I gave it up because it seemed to messy, but started it up again about six months ago. I now have two kitty litter containers on my dryer which hold paper, cardboard and metal and a laundry hamper full of plastics. They sort of clutter up my very tiny laundry / utility room, but it’s worth it.
This year was willow. He usually doesn’t tell me, and I’m not allowed to ask or look it up. But he was stumped. He couldn’t think of anything, so he asked if it would be ok if we went to visit the largest willow tree in North Carolina. Yep. I’m a cheap date. That sounded fun. It was in the mountains, so I got to combine this with traipsing around looking at antique shops to see if I could find an appropriate gift for myself. I thought about getting a Blue Willow plate or one of those Willow figurines, but after looking at them I realized I already have enough decorations in my house. Pictures of us next to a huge willow tree sounded perfect.
