If I were a good unemployed girl I’d wake up early, get dressed in business or business casual attire and approach my job search as if it were my new job.  Each new day would be an opportunity to network and spin my years of successful multitasking into model cover letters for the next exciting chapter in my career.  Instead, I’ve developed a number of alarming habits that interrupt my focus when I remain at home.  These include the following: misty-eyed reviewing of  old paychecks, gazing lovingly at old business cards, checking the balances of my checking and savings accounts multiple times a day, questioning the strategies employed by players in the daytime version of “Deal or No Deal,” and surreptiously returning my neighbors’ empty bottles to the supermarket  for nickels.

As a lifelong workaholic, I’ve realized that the only way I am going to make it through a period of unemployment while retaining the better part of my sanity is to go with a hybrid approach.  I need to interrupt sending resumes into a black hole and hearing that I am conversely overqualified or underqualified for every position I’m interested in with some type of actual paying work, even if these short-term or one-day gigs have nothing to do with my career goals or pay so little that they make me question the fiscal consequences of having lunch.

A few weeks ago I came across an advertisement for a designer sample sale for an hourly wage of $10, and was embarrassingly excited about the possibility of nine days of consecutive employment.  I’ve taken on a number of odd jobs and money making gigs during the two months since my layoff - birdsitting, mystery shopping, carnival game hosting, focus group participation – but none of these has provided me with the camaraderie of co-workers or the reassuring routine of being expected to show up at a particular location for more than a week .  I used to be quite a shopper myself too, buying at least one new black shirt or black pair of pants at Ann Taylor every few weeks whether I needed them or not.  I’m lucky enough to be the height of a fashion model, but since my figure is that of three fashion models standing side-by-side sample sales have never been my thing.  This job would thus not prove too much of a spending temptation, I reasoned, since the clothing sold at substantial discount is invariably in single digit sizes.

Continue Reading “Sample Sale of the Unemployed” by Janet Raiffa —>

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