The health care reform of the United States is on the tip of everyone's tongue today, so I figured I'd throw my two cents in to the cluster. Let me begin by saying I am an uninsured American who was kicked off my mother's health insurance because I am no longer a full-time student, so the ramifications of the health care reform may be slightly different than those who currently have health insurance.
As per usual, I have only done scattered research on the legislation working its way through the digestive system of our federal government. On the one hand, I am at a disadvantage because I haven't read the documents themselves, but on the other hand I don't have the advice of pundits floating above my shoulders and whispering their bipartisan comments in my ear as so many of my peers do. This creates for me an opinion which is as unbiased as possible, while also giving me only glimpses of how this new system will work for and against me.
The only thought on everyone's mind: taxes. Taxes and fees. Many employed, insured Americans are enraged that any of their precious, "hard-earned" money might go toward something besides the detailing of their car or to pay down their tens of thousands of dollars of credit card debt they accrued being stupid with their money. Was there enough venom in that last sentence?
Listen, we pay taxes all the time. A surprisingly large portion of my paycheck is taken out for taxes filing as a single dependent, and the Social Security taxes that are taken out probably won't even benefit me. But you know what's crazy and weird? Life isn't fair. I think many people moan and complain about things like taxes and Obama and how awful the government is because they haven't had enough unfairness in their lives. The government is going to make decisions that you don't personally like and that might not personally benefit you. The weird, crazy thing about the government is that it's supposed to serve the people of the country, not just those who are fortunate enough to have health insurance or those with money. Yes the system is flawed, yes people take advantage of government's money, and sometimes your elected officials will make decisions that you might not personally agree with. That's life, friends. Get over it.
Obama is not a God, and he's not a saint. He's a dude who got elected president, and who is making the best decisions he can. As far as I can see, he's not pandering to parties, or swaying because Republicans are pitching a bitch. He is making a decision that he thinks is right and advantageous for the people of his country. That's what I would call a good president.
Disclaimer: I voted for Obama, but mostly because I was afraid of Sarah Palin being anywhere at, near, or adjacent to the White House.
I think this legislation might do me some favors. In the past year, not only have I not held a job that offered me health care, I have not even had an interview for a position that offered health care. The ability for me to afford health care, or have it offered at an affordable rate through my work, may be years off. If I had an accident, or became ill, or any other unforseeable situation...well, I honestly don't even know what I would do. I try to avoid the thought, because it would be too overwhelming to try to figure out. So am I optimistic about this new bill? Kinda.
Yes, some of the burden of this bill will go on those who already have health care, and that totally blowz, man. But you never know when you might need a little help, and it would be nice to know there's something to back you up.
Now, the ultimate rant about materialism:
"The government takes all my money! That is MY hard-earned money! Harrumph!" Sound familiar? It's the voice of taxpayers in the U.S, sometimes even me. But here's the deal about money, people: it's an idea. It's not magical, it's not a fix-all, and it's not as valuable as people perceive. It can't save people from an untimely death, or old age, or heartbreak. It can buy you stuff, stuff that breaks down and decays and becomes obsolete in months until the next new cool thing comes out. Enough money to live is important. Enough money for something extra is wonderful. Enough money to feel comfortable is almost priceless, really. But beyond that, money is just stuff, stuff that gets you more stuff. The pursuit of more and more and more can make you crazy, and not enough can make you crazy too. I think that once people get out of the habit of thinking that money is God, they'll stop being scared of it and obsessed with it and will learn to live their lives without passing out any time their money might go toward something they don't like.
Long story short: people need to stop complaining, it's giving me a headache.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
A Happy State of Affairs
Jobs in Michigan are about as easy to find as a conservative Christian in San Francisco: while you might spy one in passing, it will disappear as soon as you pause for a closer look. As scary as it may seem, though, actually getting a job isn't as difficult as beginning one. While the job search is daunting, exasperating, exhilarating, depressing, and sometimes satisfying, all of those emotions dissolve into pants-pissing fear once a job is actually acquired. All of a sudden, the flashy degree and sparse experience in the field look too flimsy to get anyone through the first day, let alone the training period.
The closest thing I've had to a "real" job is the four-month internship at a European literary magazine, for which I got 4 English credits and a peek into the publishing world. Four months, however, is hardly enough time to acquire solid experience according to the harsh job market of a deflated economy. My first big break happened last month, and not even as an editor or writer, but as a personal assistant.
I have previously worked for my current employers as a receptionist. While a receptionist position does require some brain cells, so do most jobs, even in the food service industry. I spent most days staring into space, wondering how I landed at a salon instead of an editor's desk, but I didn't feel too badly because I was in college and felt like I was doing something with my life. I have returned to them as a personal assistant, a position which sounds like it's right out of a chick lit novel. The job title is pretty much self-explanatory, but proves to be less whimsical than most cutesy romantic comedies portray.
The first few weeks of a job drag the new employee through a range of emotions which are constantly oscillating through her psyche. I went into the job with a confidence which was quickly deflated in the first week by the realization that I didn't have as much experience as I thought. A triumph over a certain protocol is quickly dashed into despair as one small mistake becomes a virtual atom bomb of disgrace in the eyes of an employer. I have a difficult time holding onto my sanity when one moment I feel like the best personal assistant ever and the next I feel like a literal burden on my bosses. This ping-pong game becomes exhausting, and I sometimes look back longingly at the days where the most important things I needed to care about was a customer's meat slice thickness. At least those mistakes couldn't be blamed on a faulty thought process, but a mere carelessness about people's particular consistency preferences.
I won't be a personal assistant forever. One day I will be able to inform people, by my own experience, that I can do more with an English degree than teach at a high school or use it as a prop to find entry-level positions in random companies. It sometimes seems like a far-off thing, but there are glimpses now and then of the future that might be possible.
When I was young, I always imagined that having a job would be simultaneously a necessary burden and a constant presence. It was just another step of an adult life: graduate from high school, graduate from college, and get a job. The end. Happily ever after included. Now I realize it's not so simple and steady. Like most other things in life, finding a career is rocky, unpredictable, and never guaranteed. A job doesn't have the same structure as school: if you do A, B, and C, you will succeed. Now I realize that jobs don't just exist to fill up my day or some sort of obligation to society, but to pay my bills. I also realize that my job isn't necessarily supposed to be the most important thing in my life, and it has changed my whole perspective. If I find a job that happens to fulfill me intellectually, that would be wonderful. Until I find one of those, I'll be the one in the career wear, chasing after a slightly modified American dream.
The closest thing I've had to a "real" job is the four-month internship at a European literary magazine, for which I got 4 English credits and a peek into the publishing world. Four months, however, is hardly enough time to acquire solid experience according to the harsh job market of a deflated economy. My first big break happened last month, and not even as an editor or writer, but as a personal assistant.
I have previously worked for my current employers as a receptionist. While a receptionist position does require some brain cells, so do most jobs, even in the food service industry. I spent most days staring into space, wondering how I landed at a salon instead of an editor's desk, but I didn't feel too badly because I was in college and felt like I was doing something with my life. I have returned to them as a personal assistant, a position which sounds like it's right out of a chick lit novel. The job title is pretty much self-explanatory, but proves to be less whimsical than most cutesy romantic comedies portray.
The first few weeks of a job drag the new employee through a range of emotions which are constantly oscillating through her psyche. I went into the job with a confidence which was quickly deflated in the first week by the realization that I didn't have as much experience as I thought. A triumph over a certain protocol is quickly dashed into despair as one small mistake becomes a virtual atom bomb of disgrace in the eyes of an employer. I have a difficult time holding onto my sanity when one moment I feel like the best personal assistant ever and the next I feel like a literal burden on my bosses. This ping-pong game becomes exhausting, and I sometimes look back longingly at the days where the most important things I needed to care about was a customer's meat slice thickness. At least those mistakes couldn't be blamed on a faulty thought process, but a mere carelessness about people's particular consistency preferences.
I won't be a personal assistant forever. One day I will be able to inform people, by my own experience, that I can do more with an English degree than teach at a high school or use it as a prop to find entry-level positions in random companies. It sometimes seems like a far-off thing, but there are glimpses now and then of the future that might be possible.
When I was young, I always imagined that having a job would be simultaneously a necessary burden and a constant presence. It was just another step of an adult life: graduate from high school, graduate from college, and get a job. The end. Happily ever after included. Now I realize it's not so simple and steady. Like most other things in life, finding a career is rocky, unpredictable, and never guaranteed. A job doesn't have the same structure as school: if you do A, B, and C, you will succeed. Now I realize that jobs don't just exist to fill up my day or some sort of obligation to society, but to pay my bills. I also realize that my job isn't necessarily supposed to be the most important thing in my life, and it has changed my whole perspective. If I find a job that happens to fulfill me intellectually, that would be wonderful. Until I find one of those, I'll be the one in the career wear, chasing after a slightly modified American dream.
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