A day in the life

You hear a lot these days about the plight of the unemployed. Not to minimize what they are going through -- after all, it's beginning to look like we'll all be there eventually -- but what about the plight of the fearing-they'll-soon-be unemployed? Particularly those who are married to a fellow member of that tribe?

Jeff and I both work in recession-eviscerated industries, so worrying about the future is not merely an intellectual exercise in our house. It's an all-out obsession, and it has a disturbing way of weaving itself in and out of virtually every moment of the day.

Think I'm exaggerating? Then pour yourself a cup of coffee, settle in for a spell and take a look at a typical day in my life. This is a day when I am off work, in recognition of the fact that soon, "off work" may be my default condition.

(Yes, this is nauseatingly self-absorbed. That's what you get for reading a blog.)

A Day in the Life of the Tenuously Employed

5:45 a.m.: Groan at the sound of bedroom door opening, knowing I'll never get back to sleep. The resident 5-year-old does not suffer fools who stay in bed past 6 a.m. (It's like having a cat, only with college tuition looming in the future.)

7:15: Finally give up on getting back to sleep, and go downstairs to what, in retrospect, will be the most satisfying part of the day: Curling up on the sofa with a strong cup of coffee and the newspaper. Please note the importance of an actual newspaper, not the Internet, in the Most Satisfying Part of the Day.

8: Begin the process of getting the child fed, toothbrushed, dressed, strapped into car seat and delivered to preschool, in what will later prove to have been the most productive 45 minutes of the day.

8:50: Upon returning home, do a quick check of industry blogs in an effort to determine whether I have been laid off. This sounds absurd, but trust me, it is not.

9:10: After 20 minutes spent scouring industry blogs with unsettling minute-by-minute announcements of job cuts and furloughs at newspapers nationwide, decide to check locally based blogs for information on my specific employer. Feel a strong need to shower afterward.

9:20: After a total of 30 minutes spent on various blogs with the result of finding about five minutes' worth of useful information, decide to access work e-mail to see if any official news on today's rumored layoffs has been disseminated. None has.

9:30: Convince myself that a quick check of Facebook actually constitutes a productive use of my time. Networking, you know.

10:00: Finally finish reading various friends' "25 Random Things" lists, all the while patting myself on the back for the fact that my own "Random Things" list is far more witty and erudite than theirs.

10:01: Realize that I have just associated the words "witty" and "erudite" with the "Random Things" fad, and feel a moment of shame. Then I recall this fad's true value: the spawning of countless spoofs -- many of which are, indeed, witty and erudite. Click here for a good one.

10:02: Realize that I have 28 minutes to get to my son's preschool Valentine's Day party, for which I have been assigned to bring "healthy snacks," as opposed to "fun snacks." This further verifies my status as World's Least-Fun Mom.

10:28: While dashing out the door with aforementioned healthy snacks in hand, recall reading somewhere that careers in education are considered among the most recession-proof.

10:30: Shortly before entering classroom, begin to consider a career change to early childhood education.

10:31: Rethink career change to early childhood education.

10:35: Completely abandon plans for career change to early childhood education.

11:30: Arrive home with sugar-crazed 5-year-old and a week's supply of sweet treats. Begin lunch process, which boils down to fixing, coaxing, threatening, bribing and cleanup.

12:15: Check industry blogs yet again. Read much talk of plans for unpaid furloughs industry-wide.

12:20: Contemplate the phrase "rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic." Wonder if anyone actually did this. Don't recall seeing it in the movie.

12:25: Take time to appreciate the value of the Titanic in providing a framework for countless analogies throughout the remainder of the 20th century and into the 21st. Recall headline in "history" book by the great folks at The Onion: "World's Largest Metaphor Hits Ice-berg."

12:30: Realize that only 30 minutes past noon, I have already spent far more time online today than reading the newspaper.

12:31: Perish the thought.

12:35: Spend several minutes contemplating how much garish wallpaper I could remove from my home on a furlough week. Realize that at my home-improvement rate, very little would actually get done. But if I'm laid off until the economy is expected to turn around (fourth quarter of 2010), I might get the downstairs bathroom and the dining room finished.

12:45: Load child into car and head to Very Large Upscale Health Club that I really can't afford but belong to anyway.

2:00: Notice, not for the first time, the number of working-age men at the club in the middle of a weekday afternoon. Can't help but wonder how many of them are here because they have recently lost their jobs.

2:05: Vow to myself not to continue paying Very Large Upscale Health Club membership if anyone in my house loses a job.

2:15: While on cardio machines, read Time magazine cover story on the dire situation in the newspaper industry. Note that it bears a strong resemblance to the Newsweek cover story of two weeks earlier.

2:30: Tired of reading this, look up to the big-screen TV and notice layoff numbers marching across the scroll bar on the bottom of the screen.

2:45: Return home and resist urge to check blogs and work e-mail yet again.

3:30: Notice neighbors gathering outside on an unusually nice winter's day and decide to join them.

3:31: Am immediately asked if I still have a job. Am told that wow, the Internet must really be killing newspapers.

3:32: Explain, for the umpteen millionth time, that newspapers have more readers than ever. After all, they have some of the most-read Web sites out there. The problem is that revenue is plummeting because of the wider economy, which is wiping big advertisers off the map and also reducing the incentive for the surviving competitors to advertise. Circuit City, rest in peace. Linens-N-Things, we hardly knew ye.

3:35: Also, ill-advised corporate mergers resulting in billions of dollars of debt don't help.

4:30: Neighbor who happens to be a bankruptcy attorney joins the conversation.

4:45: After describing the potentially dire situation that could arise in our household this year, discover that my Plan A for keeping the house is not a good one. But walk away with a workable Plan B which I will not repeat here. (Attorney-client privilege, you know.)

5: Launch into the three-hour dinner-playtime-bathtime-storytime-bedtime routine. Manage to not think about layoffs for the entire three hours.

8: Sit down to watch last night's recording of the Daily Show. Jon Stewart's guest is the guy who wrote the Time article on the death of newspapers.

8:15: Curse myself for waiting until this spring to take a community college course updating my skills for a digital age, instead of taking it last year.

9: Start getting ready for bed. Have not checked blogs or e-mail in hours, and am very proud of myself.

10: Watch beginning of newscast that reports the disappearance of a 5-year-old Florida girl who was last seen when she went to bed several nights ago. Cannot keep myself from tiptoeing upstairs to check on my own 5-year-old. He is there. Economy seems to be losing its importance.

10:15: Flipping through the channels, come across a documentary about life for women and children in tribal regions of Afghanistan controlled by the Taliban. Am reminded of another recent documentary about life in sub-Saharan Africa. Beginning to feel a bit foolish about obsessing over paying the bills in my cushy suburban American home.

10:30: Reading a magazine in bed, come across article on parents whose children who were swept away by the Indian Ocean tsunami in 2004.

10:35: Have completely let go of my misplaced concern about a layoff that hasn't yet happened and the mortgage on a house that represents more luxury than many people in the world can even imagine.

10:36: Drift off to sleep, hoping to remain asleep until the 5:45 wakeup call.


Because that's when this whole day starts over again.