For the first six or eight days after I learned about the rumored layoffs, I felt so stressed that my chest hurt. One day at the office I had to lie down on the floor for a few minutes when an anxiety attack started to come on. Determined not to end up in the ER again, I managed to get the feeling that I was about to pass out under control with some breathing and relaxation exercises. But that didn’t stop the scary ache in the chest.
Today, though, I’m feeling a lot better: no pounding heart, no chest pain, no sense of oxygen starvation, no distractibility, and no sleeplessness. For sure, yesterday’s call from one of the employers I applied to helped. Even if I don’t get the job, at least now I have some hope that my age won’t disqualify me from every job I ask for. That was a big worry.
Also, with amazing speed I’m getting more and more comfortable with the idea of not working for GDU—even if it means taking a lower-paying job. Matter of fact, that prospect not only looks less scary, it’s starting to look downright welcome. Although I personally have had relatively little to complain about (other than the months-long PeopleSoft fiasco, the [probably illegal] reneging on an approved job offer I made to a prospective employee, and the overall toxic atmosphere on the campus where I taught), I certainly have seen the administration treat many of my coworkers abominably.
The prospect of being somewhere else begins to look more attractive. So does the idea of a new job with new things to learn and do.
I’m glad I started the job search before any university-wide announcement came down and before I knew whether this next round of lay-offs will apply to me. Just doing something to help yourself, rather than hunkering paralyzed in the headlight while the train bears down on you, goes a long way to make you feel better. It gives you a little sense of accomplishment, and it jump-starts the process you’re going to have to put into gear soon, anyway.
The first cover letter and résumé took a good five or six hours to put together! I thought I was gunna die. If every job application took that much time, how was I going to manage the work for the day job? To say nothing of all the freelance work The Copyeditor’s Desk has taken on?
However, the next application only took 30 or 40 minutes, and neither of the other two took any longer. Because the jobs I’m seeking (with exception of driving the zoo train…) are in the same general family of work and they’re all at nonprofits or colleges, tweaking the cover letter and resuméis pretty easy. It’s just a matter of writing new first and last paragraphs for the cover letter, adjusting the “what I can bring to your job” paragraphs—deleting some of them, moving others closer to the top—and shifting the resumé’s “list of accomplishments” to highlight the items most relevant to a given job. After I realized this, I began to feel a lot more confident that applying for a series of jobs isn’t going to kill me.
And really: if I get an offer from next week’s interview and then learn I’m not included in the next set of layoffs, I may take the job anyway—even if it pays less than I’m earning. The recurring workplace flaps, which seem to come more and more often, are ridiculous. I don’t need to put up with this kind of grief. And besides, the prospect of starting something new is beginning to sound pretty good. Darned good!
I’m not going to sit here and wait for the ax to fall. My source has had further confirmation of the rumor that everyone in my job classification is about to be laid off, and, although my own spy in midlevel administration hasn’t heard the story, he remarked that it was entirely believable and that his unit is so strapped there’s some talk of closing down entire academic programs.
A couple of days ago I applied for a job at a regional nonprofit—an organization whose mission and philosophy seem very laudable and that has a high reputation among nonprofits. Yesterday I applied for three more jobs.
Given that we’re supposed to be teetering on the brink of another Great Depression, it’s surprising how many job openings are out there, with pay in the general range of my present salary. Now it’s true, my salary is middling at best—but I’m not starving and I don’t really need to earn much more.
One of the community colleges is advertising for a marketing director. I used to know the woman who held that job about 15 years ago. She really loved it. And it pays $9,000 more than I’m earning.
The strategy right now is binary (oh! can you believe I know a word like that!?):
Possibility #1: Get another job comparable to the one I have. This will carry me over to full retirement age, whereinatupon my problems will be solved.
Possibility #2: Collect early Social Security and start a 5% drawdown of tax-deferred savings; get a part-time job paying around $14,000 (the max you can make before the government starts confiscating early Social Security payments) and limp along until I reach full Social Security age. Then turn back the $31,000 S.S. will have paid me, reapply and obtain full Social Security (about $400 a month more than I would get now) and collect the returned taxes.
Both of these are problematic.
Scenario 1 could require me to (gasp!) actually work. Horrors. I’ve honed Creative Malingering to such a high art, I’m not sure I remember how to work. Seriously: at my age it’s unlikely anyone will hire me for a full-time job. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, of course; but truth to tell, it’s probably a waste of time to apply.
Scenario 2 entails a significant drop in income. I may be forced to sell my house (if I can!) and move to Sun City, where costs are a lot lower. I suppose I could rent it and use the rental income to pay a mortgage out there, but the tax complications make my head spin. By the time I’ve paid the various tax gouges, I’d probably come out way behind.
At any rate, one of the jobs I applied for yesterday is a part-timer: driving the tourist train at the zoo! LOL! Can you imagine? Actually, I think it could be a TON of fun during the winter months, when the weather’s good. And it would keep the wolf from the door for nine or ten months, until the heat comes back up. I’m not going to drive around in an open vehicle in 110-degree heat. But if I keep looking for work something better should come along before next summer.
My strategy is to consider the broad categories of organizations where I’d like to work: nonprofits, colleges, and publishing houses. Then brainstorm all the employers I can think of in those categories. And then go to their websites and check their HR pages—once every week. I’m also checking job links at various trade groups I belong to: Arizona Book Publishing Association, Society for Technical Communication, and the like. To ensure that I check each possible employer every Monday, I’m building a table with date columns to check off.
????News Flash!???
This afternoon as I was racing out the door to meet a friend, one of the employers I applied to yesterday called and asked me to come in for an interview!
Good grief! Somebody wants to interview me! One day after they get my resumé & cover letter! That is astonishing.
The interview is set up for Tuesday afternoon. I was able to squeeze into the beauty salon Monday to get my hair cut—I’m looking pretty shaggy after a summer of neglect and pool water. And…gosh. I haven’t interviewed in so long I can’t even imagine how to prepare, other than to get the hair styled.
The place is situated in the center of a lovely desert park—absolutely gorgeous. I have no idea whether they have cubes inside those rustic adobe buildings or what the rate of compensation is. But the pay rate may not matter: not much is a heck of a lot better than nothing. It would be a wonderful place to work, and the job—an educational program manager—could be a lot of fun.
Condo Blues responded with a little clarification of a post I linked to yesterday, in which she described some doggy treats she’s invented. Her discussion of doggy food allergies brought me back to one of my favorite hobby horses: dog food.
Commercial dog food, besides being equivalent in human terms to a steady diet of cheap hot dogs and processed dry cereal, is full of ingredients that are common dog allergens. Corn, for example, is one of the top offenders among canine allergens, and yet most commercial dog foods are full of it, because it’s very cheap. Fish is another common allergen for dogs, yet it’s touted as a main ingredient for some very fancy, very expensive premium dog foods.
Overall, though, the problem with dog food is that it isn’t food. It’s fake food, an even feebler imitation of food than the fast food and junk snacks that humans favor for themselves. While it will sustain most animals, it may not sustain them well.
This fact came to my attention during the late, great Chinese melamine dog food scare. While that was going on, you couldn’t tell what commercial dog foods, if any, were safe—every time you turned around, another brand was being yanked off the shelves. So, I decided to feed my German shepherd and my greyhound human food: real food purchased from the grocery store’s counters of human food. The result was amazing.
I did a fair amount of research to find out what dogs eat and don’t eat. Humans routinely consume a number of foodstuffs that are toxic to dogs, notably onions and chocolate. Condo Blues provides a useful link to a list of dog no-no food items. Interestingly, domestic dogs are unlike cats in that dogs are not “obligatory carnivores.” A cat is: it must have a diet high in animal protein. Dogs, however, having evolved with humans for many tens of thousands of years, thrive on a diet similar to an omnivorous human diet. Apparently they started down that road before they started hanging around with humans: wolves have been observed eating berries and other vegetable matter in the wild.
Understand, this does not mean that dogs are vegetarians (although some people feed pet dogs vegetarian diets without much obvious harm). A look at the teeth should clue you to this: a dog’s mouth is full of tools designed to rip meat, whereas a human has, in comparison, a limited number of teeth designed for tearing meat. Clearly, the animal needs meat as a large part of its diet.
I’m not going to try to track down the research I unearthed just this moment. If you’re interested, google topics such as canine diet and canine nutrition with edu as part of the search string. Adding “edu” will help bring up serious research papers and articles posted by leading veterinary schools. Use some common sense about what you believe: there is a LOT of woo-woo out there—as much woo-woo surrounds the subject of pet diets as you’ll find about human foods. But in addition to New-Agey silliness, you’ll also find ream after ream of propaganda emanating from the pet food industry, and you will discover that many veterinarians buy this propaganda, as many human doctors buy into what Big Pharma tells them. Pet food corporations conduct scientific research, too, and unsurprisingly that research tells them dogs should be eating nothing but dry kibble.
No.
Dogs should eat about what you eat, with a larger proportion of meat or (if the animal can digest it) cheese. Dogs, like humans, need starches, vegetables & fruits, and animal protein; a healthy ratio of these ingredients (for a dog, not for you) is about 1:1:1. That is, 1/3 starch, 1/3 veggies, and 1/3 animal protein. A little more meat and a little less of the others won’t do any harm.
Don’t even think about trying this on your cat! Cats are not dogs, and their metabolism is different from a dog’s. A cat’s nutritional needs are weird, and you will need expert advice to build a feline diet from scratch.
Corn is indigestible for many dogs, and it should be avoided because it often kicks up allergies. Onions and garlic are toxic. Avocadoes are said to be bad for dogs, too. Otherwise: almost anything goes. Like humans, dogs need a variety of veggies: mix green and yellow items, and don’t feel shy about giving the dog squash one day and spinach the next. I’ve been buying Costco’s frozen “Normandy Style Vegetable Blend.” This gives you a lifetime supply of dog and human veggies. It contains broccoli, cauliflower, and two kinds of carrots. For convenience, I microwave a plateful of the veggies and run them through the food processor, providing a week’s worth of finely chopped, easy-to-serve dog vegetables. Unground, they’re mighty good served up to humans, too.
Starches include rice, oatmeal, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and peas. In a pinch, I’ve substituted a little bread. Cook potatoes and sweet potatoes well—you can zap them in the microwave, because the dog can’t tell the difference between cooking methods. Rice and oatmeal are easy to cook on the stovetop. Be sure the stuff is cooled off before feeding.
Meat: some people like to feed their dogs raw meat. My own practice is never to feed my dog anything I wouldn’t eat myself, and I do not think raw meat is safe to eat. You have enough vet bills without deliberately exposing the animal to staph, C. difficile, and E. coli infections. So, I feed cooked meat. For the same reason, egg also should be cooked. When I cook a meal for myself, I cook up enough extra meat for the dog to last for several days. A barbecue grill is particularly handy for this purpose.
Hamburger is amazingly overpriced. Watch the meat sales. You can buy roasts marked down, and most butchers will grind it for you. Keep the bones for the purpose I’ll describe below. And taste the fresh-ground hamburger yourself—it’s much better than what you get off the counter. Last week Safeway was selling hamburger for over $2 a pound, but chuck roast was $1.47 a pound. I got enough ground chuck to feed me and the dog for a week. Rump roast is leaner and also sometimes comes on sale at a substantial mark-down. Chicken is often marked down, too—thighs are easiest to debone after cooking.
There’s no need for meat to be ground. You can cut it up into manageable chunks by way of discouraging the dog from setting it on the living-room carpet to chew it up—I use a pair of scissors to snip cooked meat into pieces for Cassie the Corgi. But if you want to grind it, a food processor will grind raw meat for you in a matter of seconds.
If you have a roast ground, ask the butcher to give you the bones. You can use these to make soup for yourself or, if that’s more work than it’s worth, simply drop a bone into the water you use to cook the dog’s rice. This flavors the rice to the dog’s taste, and it also cooks up the last few bits of meat, which you can shave off and add to the rice. Do not, do not, DO NOT let your dog chew on cooked bones! And never give your dog chicken or turkey bones! A dog’s jaws are strong enough to splinter bones, especially cooked bones; the splinters can lodge in the dog’s mouth or perforate its intestines.
And yes, I KNOW wolves and wild dogs eat bones. In the wild, wolves commonly die of perforated intestines.
Because no one really knows all a dog’s nutritional needs—remember, in the wild they’ll eat anything, including insects and some things you’d just as soon not know about—it’s a good idea to add a dog vitamin to one meal each day. Sometimes Trader Joe’s carries dog vitamins, relatively inexpensive compared to the same thing you get at the vet’s office or PetSmart.
Interestingly, as soon as I put the German shepherd and the greyhound on real food, their health changed. Visibly and drastically. The decrepit Ger-shep perked up. She began to move around with a great deal less discomfort, and where before she could only hobble after the beloved Toy, soon she was chasing it at a fast trot. The grey, a far more low-key character, also seemed healthier and happier. He was allergic to corn—a sensitivity that manifested itself as ear infections—and fixing his food myself meant I knew exactly what was and what was not in his dog dish.
It’s a lot of work to turn enough food out of your kitchen to feed a 90-pound dog (to say nothing of two of them…), especially if you’re not in the habit of cooking your own meals all the time. However, a smaller dog is very easy to feed this way. You can prepare several meals at once and store the food in the fridge.
I feed Cassie, who weighs 23 pounds, about 5 ounces of food twice a day, evenly divided between a vegetable, a starch, and meat, egg, or cottage cheese. I refrigerate the cooked ingredients in separate containers and then combine them at mealtime. Microwaving the food about 30 seconds at a medium setting to take the chill off seems to please the dog, though she will eat it cold. If you try this, be sure none of the food in the bowl is too hot, as microwaving heats unevenly.
If you change your dog over from kibble to real food abruptly, your pet likely will have diarrhea for a day or two. This is normal: dogs get enteritis when you change from one fake food to another, and the same effect occurs when you take them off fake food. Afterwards, though, you’ll find that once the animal is acclimated to eating real food, you can introduce a wide variety of foodstuffs without causing any stomach upset.
Real food may cost a little more than commercial pet food (although given the cost of some of the premium brands…maybe not!), but it’s way worth it in terms of the animal’s health and the savings in veterinary bills. Feeding your dog fake food is a classic case of penny-wise and pound-foolish.
Mama Bear hosts the Make It from Scratch Carnival at I’ve Got a Little Space to Fill, where Funny’s squib on substituting laundry detergent for dish detergent appears. On two of my favorite subjects, make-it-yourself dog food and bizarre chemicals in processed food, Condo Blues tells how to make apple & banana doggie treats…and in passing reveals that some baby foods contain corn syrup (!). Speaking of treats, The Sojourner posts some to-die-for photos and a link to a recipe for chocolate-peanut butter ice cream, with some added blandishments of her own. Check out the amazing idea for green tomato pie at The Homestead Blogger, and All Rileyed Up’s easy frozen banana treats. Money Blue Book explains an elaborate system for extracting free products from drugstores, using coupons and rebates.
Value for Your Life hosts the 145th Festival of Frugality; Funny’s squib on the least important bill appears here. Master Your Card tells an astonishing story about life in his apartment complex—good grief! Paid Twice gets an interesting conversation going with a post on school fund-raising tactics. Speaking of school, even though Broke Grad Student has graduated, he’s still blogging; check out ten ways college students can score free food. Our Four Pence Worth has a nice rumination on doing with air-conditioning, leading one to reflect that many a generation before ours survived just fine without chilling down a box to live in during the summer.
Had a little kitchen fire earlier this evening…well, we could call it “last night,” the hour now coming onto 1:00 a.m. I managed to carbonize an entire potful of buttered popcorn by failing to notice that I’d turned on the burner. This is why old ladies shouldn’t be allowed around stoves.
At any rate, the ruined pan—my cool Ikea stockpot!—now resides in the backyard, awaiting the light of day to be carried out to the alley garbage can. The smoke saturated the cabinetry around the stovetop, not helped by my stupidly turning on the microwave exhaust fan without thinking that such a fan “exhausts” by recirculating the air (read “smoke”) right back into the room. Ugh!
It’s possible the microwave is ruined—nice timing, a couple weeks after I changed the insurance deductible from $250 to $2500 by way of saving all of nine bucks a month. I took apart the metal exhaust fan filters and put them in the dishwasher, but I couldn’t discombobulate the whole arrangement, so some very stinky parts are still in place and couldn’t be cleaned. Nor, of course, can the microwave’s innards.
Then I was faced with a mighty stink from the cabinetry itself. In just the few moments before I noticed the burning food, smoke soaked into the woodwork. I tried cleaning the cabinets with Murphy’s Oil Soap. Didn’t work. Tried rubbing them down with lemon oil. Nothing.
Then I remembered that some time back I discovered that the grease and dirt accumulated along the ledge created by the cabinet’s trim came off quickly and neatly with a Q-tip soaked in baby oil. Could it be?
Nothing ventured, nothing gained: the cabinets already appeared to be ruined. Couldn’t ruin them any worse. The stuff is really nothing more than mineral oil with some sort of stinkum added.
So I rubbed the smelly areas with a paper towel soaked in baby oil and then wiped them dry with a clean microfiber rag.
Well! It made quite a difference. Don’t know that it worked 100%…baby oil is pretty heavily perfumed, and it may be that Johnson’s industrial perfume just covered up the smoke stench. I don’t much care for the scent of baby oil, but I’d sure rather have the parfum de l’huile pour les derrières des enfants around me than l’aire du popcorn brulé.
[dambola! the dog just caught the grasshopper that invited itself into the house while I was trying to air the joint out and carried the critter into the bedroom. argh! can life get any more amusing?]
Anyway, a little acrid smoke odor lingers in the kitchen, but I think it’s mostly coming out of the microwave. The whole house stank for three hours after the fact, but after throwing open every window and door and running the house fan, all the overhead fans, and all the table fans, most of the rooms are cleared out.
Baby oil. Kitchen cabinetry. Good combination. It really cleans varnished woodwork and is neither poisonous nor carcinogenic.
Oh, heaven only knows: maybe they’ve been flying for awhile and I just haven’t noticed, what with my nose tightly attached to the grindstone.
Over lunch with a friend, I happened to mention the rumor to the effect that Our Beloved Leader will shortly announce that everyone in my job category will be laid off. She said, “Well, that must have to do with the plan to convert all academic professionals to classified staff.”
Uhm… “Say what?”
Supposedly that’s the plan afoot. Academic professionals (the likes of moi) are exempt employees. Classified staff are nonexempt. “Exempt” means you’re exempt from a variety of state and federal rules that govern the degree of fairness with which you must be treated. So…why would you agree to take a job whose terms allow your employer to fire you with no reason, to shaft you with élan, to set you up like a 14-point stag in open season?
Why else? Money, of course. Exempt employees get paid more than nonexempt types in similar positions.
If they convert our positions to nonexempt classified jobs, then what they’ll have to do is can most of us and then make us reapply for our positions. This is because the university offers nonclassified slaves two retirement options: the state pension plan and a 403(b) plan. Classified (nonexempt) flunkies are eligible only for the state pension plan. The hook is that once you’ve selected one or the other, you can’t change! Ever. No, not ever, no matter what your beloved Dean says.So, the only way the administration can move an exempt employee who has selected a 403(b) as his or her pension plan to a nonexempt position is to have the person quit or be fired and then rehire him or her into a different job.
Cute, eh?
My job was originally advertised as a classified position at significantly less pay than my starting salary. When the hiring committee asked me what I would like in the new job, I said I’d like to keep my pension plan (little knowing, at the time, the significance of that seemingly innocent request). You could see the “uh-oh” in the collective mind: “And, uhm, ahem, which plan would that be?” When I told them I was enrolled in one of the 403(b) plans, they knew they were going to be forced to pay me a fair wage. Hence I started at about $8,000 more (in a 12-month job) than I was earning as a senior lecturer (in a 9-month job), rather than about $8,000 less.
🙂
The state pension plan’s cost to the employee is significantly more than the cost of the 403(b): 9.6 percent of your gross pay, as opposed to 7 percent for the 403(b). Not only that, but it takes ten years to become fully vested! If you quit before you die in the traces, you can opt to roll over your contributions into an IRA; but you can’t roll over any part of the state’s contributions until you’ve been in the plan for at least three years, and even then you can have only a small part of them. You can’t get all of the state’s and your contributions until you’ve been in the plan for ten years. Understand: I’ve worked for the Great Desert University almost 15 years, but I would have to start anew in the pension plan. That would mean I would have to stay on the job until I’m 73 years old to retrieve all the money poured into the plan in my name. I would not reach even the lowest level of investiture until the year I’m eligible for full Social Security.
While the pension plan costs employees more, it obviously costs the state lots less. And you can be sure these “new” jobs will pay lots less, too. Chances of being hired back at your current salary are nil.
My job, slash-named “editor/publisher,” is ranked M51. The salary range for an M51 is $37,308-$59,948. The highest figure in that range is $2,550 less than I’m earning!
The nonprofit job I just applied for ranges in pay from $45,000 to $55,000. Interestingly, however, the proposed nonprofit employer pays the entire tab for the employee’s health insurance and dental insurance, and rather than gouging 9.6 percent out of your salary, it matches a modest 3 percent contribution to an IRA and leaves it up to you to decide where the rest of your retirement savings, if any, should go. Thus I could put 3 percent into the workplace IRA and deposit the remaining 4 percent to my Roth IRA.
A little arithmetic reveals that if I stay at ASU and continue to earn my present salary (highly unlikely), my net biweekly pay will drop $61 per paycheck, from $1,522 to $1,461 (as if the $220/month pay cut that happened with the switch from bimonthly to biweekly weren’t enough!). But if I go to the nonprofit and start at $55,000, my biweekly pay would be $1,459: a three-dollar difference.
Think of that. And what if the nonprofit organization is generous enough to pay bimonthly instead of biweekly? Well, then my paycheck would be $1,580, $58 per pay period more than I’m taking home from a salary that’s $7,500 more, the salary that GDU is paying me today!
Argh! Why does anyone keep working for this place?
Well, I’ll tell you why: I hardly work at all. Creative malingering—my own systematic scheme to avoid working at all costs—not only has failed to raise any eyebrows, it actually has resulted in higher annual review scores. Last spring I got a 4.5 rating on a scale of 4!!!!!
If I go to the proposed nonprofit, I suppose I’ll be expected to actually work. That could be depressing. I don’t know if I remember how.