Let There Be Light

I bought a lamp yesterday. Two, actually. It was a pretty big deal.

You see, a couple of months ago, the floor lamp in my living room stopped performing its

one and only essential function, providing light. Just like that. Not sure why. Maybe it got a better offer elsewhere.

Since my still-unemployed state means all purchases must be carefully deliberated, I held off on a buying a new one, using instead a battery-powered Brooklyn lamp I purchased in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. That proved a mediocre replacement at best. But I had to make do, even if my eyes squinted every time I read something.

My apartment in an aging, three-family home has no overhead lighting, and natural light barely squeaks through the east-facing windows. Thus, I need lamps, several of them in fact.

So when another lamp in my living room flashed and blew out the light bulb, I knew I couldn’t hold off any longer. I need light, even if the price was to be too dear.

Armed with a gift card I got for Christmas, I reluctantly headed to Target to browse the lamp aisle, finally settling on two lamps that were reasonably priced and reasonably attractive (in other words, not too tacky, cheap looking or just plain ugly). I also bought two light bulbs (which weren’t cheap, either). The $25 gift card and 5% charge card discount took a $62 total purchase down to a less-stress-inducing $37 bill. So, now I have light in my living room.

Purchased over a decade earlier (at Target, coincidentally), my old floor lamp did its duty admirably, providing light in the evening and standing sentinel during illnesses and job losses, only balking when its bulb died, leaving me to frantically search for a new one that I never seemed to have at hand. 

I liked it because its stem mimicked a tree trunk, with small juts of branches. It complemented the leaf motifs at the ends of the curtain rods I installed at the same time, as well as other leafy artwork of the autumn variety scattered in my small living room.

Its only failing was that it got old. The wire conduits that once pulsed with the electricity that transported light from the outlet to the bulb simply disintegrated, like brain cells damaged by dementia (or too many viewings of The Real Housewives of New Jersey).

Indeed, when I went to move the old lamp, its base broke into pieces of I don't know what. I lugged it downstairs, put it on the curb, to be hauled away by the garbage collectors. It's now been replaced by a sleeker, more modern version.

I know the feeling. It happens to people, too.

This rather dismal episode was just another reminder of what unemployed people go through on a daily basis. Every discretionary purchase is thoroughly and painstakingly considered: How much will it cost? Do I need to buy it now? Can it wait? Should I take from my savings to buy it?

I’m not talking about big-ticket items, like a new apartment, a trip to Italy, or a FIAT 500. Those, we realize, are mere dreams, fantasies unlikely to happen soon — or possibly ever. Clothes? Fuggedaboutit. Though I have bought underwear and some deeply discounted yoga pants. Job or no job, I like to maintain a semblance of a decent appearance.

Truthfully, I’m okay with cautiously watching my spending. As a jobless loser, I know I must focus on the basics: rent, food, car and health insurance. (Though I can’t be sure how much longer I can afford even those items.)

But when I can’t even contemplate purchasing basic and relatively inexpensive household items like lamps without getting anxiety and stomach cramps, then maybe you can understand how difficult it is to be a long-term unemployed worker, how shut out from the “much-touted” economic recovery we feel. It’s as if everybody got on the party boat and we were left at the dock.

Doctor appointments, dental appointments — delayed until the pain becomes unbearable or the symptoms persist extraordinarily.

When I did have a job, I can’t say I was a big, wild spender and lived rather modestly. I know the value of money and hate (too much) debt. Yet I knew I could make purchases like lamps without too much mental or financial trauma. Not anymore. Every. Penny. Counts.

Even when it comes to essentials like I food, I gravitate toward the cheaper cuts of meats, the cheapest versions of cereal and coffee. What’s on sale? Here I come.

There are other items I’d like to buy for my apartment, like new Venetian blinds.

But with no job and no one in sight, it will have to wait.

The Bright Side

Seeing the photos of devastation in northeastern Japan serves as a reminder that there are far worse things that can happen in life than being out of work. As much as we think we have nature licked, every so often it reminds us who is really in charge.

So, in that vein, I’ll avoid my usual whine-fest and highlight some of the good things about not having a job. Here it goes:

Prime Time for PT. Physical therapy, that is. After I lost my job, I needed to undergo about three months of intensive physical therapy for a condition related to some prior surgeries I underwent. The treatments were twice a week, one hour each session. No way would I have been able to do the therapy and keep up my schedule at work. And I doubt my bosses would have allowed me to take time off during the workday to do it.

So, if you need physical therapy or elective surgery, do it while you are unemployed. Provided, of course, you are covered by health insurance.

Free Lunches. During my jobless stretch, several times friends have offered to buy me lunch. Of course, I always offer to pay, but I think most people want to do something nice for a friend going through a tough stretch.

However, don’t take advantage. You don’t want to end up jobless and friendless.

Afternoon Naps. Enough said.

Better Budgeting. I didn’t think I overspent while I was employed, but perhaps I did and didn’t realize it. Now I do. Nothing like a long stretch of unemployment to make you focus on your spending habits and expenses. That’s a good thing, and something that will stay with me after I get a job.

Volunteer. I’m in the middle of an eight-week program to help teach a young Korean woman in my town to speak better English. (I just hope she doesn’t end up with my Joisey accent.)

With no job, you really have no excuse not to do some type of volunteer work if you want to. And don’t think only of formal volunteer work. Take a friend or neighbor to a doctor appointment. Helping others provides a lift to your spirit at a time when you are not getting much positive feedback. It acts as a nice counterbalance to all those rejection emails.

Your Time is Your Own. When you work full time, it seems as if everyone from your bosses to family members have dibs on your time. Now, you can make your own schedule and do things at your pace, not someone else’s, whether it be doing errands or searching for a job.

That’s not being lazy; it just means you have a bit more control over your time and how you use it.

While I look forward to the day when I go back to full-time employment, I can appreciate this hopefully brief respite from the 9 to 5 grind. I’ve spent my entire working adulthood doing what other people wanted me to, and where did that get me?

Telemarketers Leave You Alone. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stopped telemarketers cold in their tracks when I tell them I cannot give because I’m unemployed. In the beginning, they would press me to buy some useless magazine or donate to everything from children with cancer to the hangnail foundation. Now, they can’t get off the phone with me fast enough. Yep, it’s a sad indication of just how far you have fallen on the socio-economic ladder when telemarketers hang up on you! I’m surprised none have responded that although they may be telemarketers, at least they have a job. Still, it’s nice not having to deal with those annoying people.

All these good things remind me to keep my situation in perspective. Someday, I will get a job and my old life back. Can the same be said of the thousands of people in northeastern Japan?