Do you have a part-time job?
According to MSNBC, about 7.8 million Americans ‘“ or about one worker in every 20 ‘“ held more than one job. Caitlin Kelly, a freelance writer that gets regular assignments at The New York Times recently wrote about her part-time retail gig:
In one world, I interview C.E.O.’s, write articles for national publications and promote my nonfiction book. In the other, I clock in, sweep floors, endlessly fold sweaters and sort rows of jackets into size order. Toggling between the working class and the chattering class has taught me a lot about both: what we expect of ourselves, how others perceive us, ideas about our next professional step and how we’ll make it.
She is now a battered veteran of two holiday seasons. She’s also 20 to 30 years older than most of her colleagues, twice the age of her assistant manager and more than a decade older than her manager. She also writes that ‘œwhen you wear a plastic name badge, few bother to read it.’
I’ve worn a plastic name badge a number of times throughout my adult life. At the age of thirty, I worked the express counter at Kinkos as a way to supplement my income from a failing business venture that I focused on during the day. Even though I had a knack for making excellent color copies, it wasn’t hard to notice my disdain for my part-time employment choice.
I recall a friend saying that there shouldn’t be any humiliation in an honest day’s work. Easy to say when you’re not the one making minimum wage on Friday nights.
In the current economic calamity, I suspect that part-time jobs have become essential for many people to make ends meet. As stress and anxiety mounts, here’s another truism I found in Randy Pausch’s book:
Years ago, I dated a lovely young woman who was a few thousand dollars in debt. She was completely stressed out about this. Every month, more interest would be added to her debt.
To deal with her stress, she would go every Tuesday night to a meditation and yoga class. This was her one free night, and she said it seemed to be helping her. She would breathe in, imagining that she was finding ways to deal with her debts. She would breathe out, telling herself that her money problems would one day be behind her.
It went on like this, Tuesday after Tuesday.
Finally, one day I looked through her finances with her. I figured out that if she spent four or five months working a part-time job on Tuesday nights, she could actually pay off all the money she owed.
I told her I had nothing against yoga or meditation. But I did think it’s always best to try and treat the disease first. Her symptoms were stress and anxiety. Her disease was the money she owed.
‘œWhy don’t you get a job on Tuesday nights and skip yoga for a while?’ I suggested.
This was something of a revelation to her. And she took my advice. She become a Tuesday-night waitress and soon enough paid off her debt. After that, she could go back to yoga and really breathe easier.
He titled this story, Treat the Disease, Not the Symptom. These days stress and anxiety seem to be the plight of middle-income Americans. How are you treating the disease?
Photo credit: stock.xchng.
I have a part time job. I sell Tupperware. I started because I want a new Ute (My old car is no longer suited to my driving style and is worth MUCH less then the repaid cost) and I want the extra cash to make it easier to pay for. I also like meeting others.
It’s going alright, although starting at the same time people are all “OMG recession!” isn’t overly helpful. I’m hoping that novelty (Being male, being slightly saucy) will help, and I’m trying to get some parties in the GBLTQI community going (but not having much luck – If you’re in Brisbane, Australia and want to earn free Tupperware send me an email).
Once the car is paid off I’ll likely continue to do parties, and just invest the difference. I’m enjoying having a job that’s not IT related and lets me meet all sorts of people, save them money and get them nice things they’re after.
I’m a fundraiser for a nonprofit by day, and lifeguard by the very early hours of morning a couple of days a week. I went back to lifeguarding to help cover expected increases in benefit premiums after changing jobs, but now I just do it to have some money for fun and for unexpected expenses (broken computer!!) so that I can devote more of my salary to saving for a home and adoption costs. And I find that starting the day on a pool deck relaxes me for the day of “professionalism” ahead.
Dylan: I love that you sell Tupperware. Have you heard of Phranc? She’s a bit of a legend here in Southern Cal – perhaps you should turn your Tupperware parties into a “saucy” act – that will help beat the recession objection:
Kim: Lifeguard is way cooler than Kinkos. Let’s see… plastic name badge or silver whistle & bikini-watching… hmmm, why didn’t I think of that back then.
Sure is nice to know I’m not alone! Just started a part time (and, sadly temporary) job with our local film festival. My manager could be my daughter. The interview was really amusing, complete with the standard questions “can you tell me about your last job?” and “why do you want to work here?” to which I wanted to reply “yes, but you would never understand it” and “for the free movies, silly” but managed to control those urges. I’m thankful to have some predictable income for a little while at least.