Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: Graela
Here’s something odd. Not the job, which sounds like a great one for the right person. Part of me has always thought it might be nice to work at a college. Good benefits, decent hours, fewer (you’d think) crazy people. Plus, Pratt would probably be creative, no? And maybe you could snag some free classes!

But what’s weird is how they want you to apply. If you scroll down, you find this:

Online applications will not be accepted for this position. Please submit a resume, a cover letter that includes salary history and expectations, and the names and contact information for three professional references to:
Executive Director
Office of Public Relations and Communications
Pratt Institute
200 Willoughby Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11205

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photo credit: sean dreilinger

This week has been a red-letter week of sorts, at least in my book. Allow me to tell you why.

1. I bought a new shower curtain. Finally. And it’s pretty darn cute. Not to mention, my old one was hella moldy. Here’s a pic.

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photo credit: mharrsch

Village Voice Media currently has several postings for an “email czar” on Mediabistro.com. I fancy myself no such thing, but it would be fun to call myself a czar, and I kinda wondered exactly what an email czar would do on a day-to-day basis.

So I clicked.

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photo credit: nffcnnr

I stumbled upon this story in the NYT today while scanning the headlines pre-yoga. Since I too have been dubbed middle-aged (though with less impact given the 25 hopefully good years before I reach the age of 58), I read it. And my heart goes out to this fellow.

I am sure it must be much, much harder to be 58 and unemployed than, say, 33 or 22 and without a job. Like our feelin-sorry-for-hisself 31-year-old employed editor from the Gawker piece, Michael Blattman is also “at a professional dead end”—but without the nimbleness or freedom from the burden of alimony that comes with comparative youth.

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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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