Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: Sailor Coruscant

It is a strange sensation to be completely alone on the 15th floor of a midtown office building. When I arrived circa 10:30, the lights in the kitchen were still off. The toilets had not been used since their last cleaning. And it’s cold, so cold I’m wearing my coat, even though the heat is ostensibly on. There’s not even a Bert to keep me company.

Oh my God, as I wrote that, a person turned the corner and looked at me! I have never seen him before, but since I’m freelancing and haven’t been here for a few weeks, nor have I ever met everyone on this floor, that means little.

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photo credit: andreac-84

It’s a sad day at the New York Times today. The announcement was made that 100 people in the newsroom (currently 1250 folks) will have to accept a buyout by the end of the year—or there will be layoffs to reach that number.

Somehow appropriately, editor Bill Keller was out sick (this whole thing would make me sick, too) and so delivered the news by email, which you can read here.

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I love this man, not only for his amazing writing over the years (if you want a good cry, and a glimpse into a beautiful relationship, read About Alice), but for this.

He’s right, you know.

Managing editor means something different at virtually every publication, from print to digital, that you might run into. Folks are generally kinda impressed by it because it sounds “fancy,” but sometimes it’s no more than a glorified schedule-minder/accountant/traffic cop. And sometimes it’s much, much more.

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photo credit: Clover_1

Hey guys,

YUD’s friends over at the The 405 Club (a great site for unemployment resources, commiseration, and gathering, especially for us New Yorkers—oh, and it’s free!) took her to (fake) brunch today. Thank goodness it wasn’t real because she just got up, and she’s pretty sure she’s still wearing the mascara from last night, all over her face.

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photo credit: tashmahal

For an unemployed person, I sure have a lot of work to do all of a sudden. What happened? It’s a gorgeous sunny Sunday and I’m inside copy editing and editing and doing a mishmash of freelance work that I didn’t have time to do during the day because I was busy-little-beeing at my 3-week assignment in midtown.

This is not a complaint, but rather, a reflection of the comfort, even joy, I feel that despite all the gloom and doom, there is freelance work out there! Hoorah! Maybe not so much as there was back in the glory days of 2005, but there are still bits and pieces to be had, and not always of the badly paying, tedious, and soul-sucking variety.

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photo credit: Dark Botxy

We unemployed people are in a precarious position. On one hand, we’re free as the bees’ knees; without jobs to go to the next morning, we can party and dance on bars and drink and stay out late, sleep til 2 the next day, no problem, no worries. And some of us do.

We also desperately crave attention and conversations and people interactions, particularly if we are, say, former managing editors. And we do not get those things when we are home alone working on freelance item #7 or blogging all day. It is a vicious circle. Some might say we have become needy exhibitionists. That is the worst sort.

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Poor high-fructose corn syrup!

I feel bad for you. You and I have a lot in common.

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