Sure, losing your job was stressful. For you. But for your pet, the longer you sit on the couch in a savings-sucking stupor the better.
Laura Goldstein left her post at This Old House magazine in March 2008 to become editor-in-chief of the start-up magazine Jewish Living. When Jewish Living folded six months later, Goldstein began working from home, cobbling together editorial projects while sending out resumes.
Unemployment was a shock and disappointment to her. Not so for her white-capped pionus parrot, Peewee…
Sure, some of my friends have lost their jobs and my husband has taken a 10 percent pay cut, along with the 40 other employees at his think-tank. But I didn’t fully grasp the scope of this recession until I tried to rent a car at Los Angeles International Airport.
It took a two-hour effort to wrangle a rental car out of the lot to show me how mass layoffs can bring a swift-running society to a toddle. And as tens of thousands of jobs continue to be lost, I find myself fearing that the entire nation will devolve from wi-fi efficiency to dial-up.
Ever since I left Manhattan for the quiet country life two years ago, I’ve missed the feeling of being in the center of the action: Buying the latest boots or colorful trench or micro-mini the morning it hits the stores, knowing about the hot new book before it’s on shelves because I met the author at a cocktail party, swapping ideas that just may become the next cultural trends. But being on the periphery is much more appealing these days. In New York City, everyone is talking recession. In New Paltz, the village up the Hudson where I live, everyone is discussing seed catalogues and tire chains and the estimated date for the last freeze.
The recession just isn’t happening with the same force in the Catskills. Sure, housing prices are down, grocery bills are up, and my babysitter just lost her day job at a non-profit. But most people in this laid-back, outdoorsy, grow-your-own-food-then-compost-it college town didn’t make or spend much money in the first place.