Hissy Cat

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September 01, 2005

Health Care is for Sissies

Currently Reading The Third Brother : A Novel By Nick McDonell see related

I had to practically pitch a fit to get my appointment (as a full-time employee with bennies) through yesterday so that I could get my pills refilled this week, but, in truth, I'm conflicted about this appointment. It's great, of course, that I can, like, see a doctor and take a vacation and pull in a bit more much-needed dough, but on the other hand, I *really* don't want to be doing this job. It's a long commute. It's extremely isolative: I really don't work *with* anyone, I get little to no feedback or guidance and half the time have no idea what I'm doing. I have some ethical reservations about the implementation of the product I am making.

And also, I do jack shit. I mean, I spend the vast majority of my work day fucking around on the internet. Now, in one sense, that's just peachy: I cat just sit in my private office and write or read or stick my thumb up my butt and not have anyone bugging me. But at the same time, all this pointless sloughing of time can be wearying and prohibitive. I can't *really* work on what I want to be working on. It's not like I can just pull up the novel and start working on that. I am in constant terror of being caught doing something wrong, because eventually some one has to realize how utterly worthless my presence here is, right? It makes me feel shifty and bad, being here. My time isn't *really* my time, and I'm not free to fully engage in my own projects and I'm certainly not engaging fully with the work projects. It feels like I'm keeping my brain on ice, like I'm always just waiting for something to do with it. It kind of really sucks.

On Sunday, Brett had some friends over for a dinner and I was talking to Emily and Shaun, who are both working artists. Emily is really a model of how to live and work as an artist with integrity. We were talking about jobs, and I was saying that I really wanted to leave but am limited by health insurance (essentially, I have no other way of obtaining healthcare except through an employer; in addition to being young and poor, I'm also insane in at least three different ways with a prescription for each. Oh, and a smoker, too. And in California, The Land Without Regulation, insurers are free to turn down anyone they choose, and you know they choose me). Emily mentioned that the local yuppie grocer-- and I love local yuppie grocers-- offers health insurance to their part-time employees and is currently hiring. That is exactly what I need: health insurance and a job that is 1) local 2) menial 3) would leave me the time and brain I need to put in my writing. It's true, I have spending problems, but by Monday afternoon I was determined that this was something I would have to make work. I'd just have to go without. No vacation, no unessential purchases, and rely on wilted produce intercepted on its way to the trash bin.

But I need the insurance now, you know, so I was pushy on Tuesday, and yesterday, my appointment went through. I'm going to be out of here in a year, though. I give myself one year to get up on my freelancing legs at least enough to reasonably supplement the salary of a part-time casheir at a grocery and to maybe, if I'm lucky, save up a couple of month's rent so I have some padding when I leave.

I'm going to do actual, like, work, now. Oh, but you know what is good? Because today is my last day working as a temp, I get handed my last two weeks' salary today instead of waiting another week for payroll and direct deposit to go through. Which is exciting. For once, I can actually pay my rent on time.

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Posted by hissycat at September 1, 2005 10:19 AM

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