I have now been at my contract position for five months.
In that time I have made a buttload of money. (Jen Sincero says that it’s OK to talk about money this way and I’m trying to live my truth.) I really have. I’ve been paid a rate that I never would have dreamed of asking for. This entire gig has been a gift in that way – I walked right into it, sat down, and started doing all the things. I thank the universe (and the friend who got me the job) all the time. I do not take any of this for granted.
But this financial boon comes with such a cost. Of course it does. Nothing is all good or all bad. I know this and so do you. Read more
Let’s talk about money. What’s more fun than that? (I started this post before the glimmer of hope that was the job interview I had last Wednesday, but not much has changed, really.)
I was absolutely brought up to think that money discussions were private and not to be shared. That money is shameful. That you should only spend your money on certain specific items and not others. But I am going to say fuck that. I’m not asking for help, and I’m not asking for pity, but I am going to try and share with you some thoughts on a topic that I was taught not to discuss. Because thoughts about money consume me. And this is my fucking blog so I’m going to write about it.
I have a two-part post I’ve been working on about money and my family’s situation with money (two freelancers!) and my frustration at being largely unemployed and how this all is further complicated by having a child with cerebral palsy and limited time to get anything done. Etcetera.
BUT! Things are changing.
I have a job interview on Wednesday that sort of fell in my lap. It’s through a recruiter, and it’s for a short-term contract as a proofreader, which of all of my skills is probably one of my least favorite (I prefer copy editing – and my favorite is writing, of course). The pay is good, the company is great, and the location doesn’t require driving. But they might require me to take a proofreading test, and while I understand their point, I also feel that my resume should prove my skills in that area and I shouldn’t have to take yet another test. I hate tests.
I woke up this morning and was poking through the pantry looking for something for breakfast when my eye landed on a sample of K-cups I must’ve sent away for. I haven’t had a Keurig in a long time (I used to be obsessed with mine but eventually switched to a grind-and-brew machine), but the habit of sending away for the free samples hasn’t abated. (I love free stuff. You’ll see. I also love parentheses.)
I smirked and reached to throw them away, but then I checked the expiration date. Oh good, they’ll be fine for another year. That’s perfect. I can bring them to my new job and use them in THAT machine. This pleased me greatly – this little thing that was part of a much larger “I think I’m really finally going to have a job again!” sentiment.
Then a few hours later I got the email that I didn’t win the job.