Given the choice between daily
doses of Rush Limbaugh and no
job, I’ll take unemployment.
This is the decision that led me
to my recent state of joblessness. I
was going to do deliveries for an
on-campus courier service in a car
with only an AM radio. The onlv
thing I could get (at least on KFOR)
was Rush, the conservative Repub
lican from hell.
I am now jobless, after a lifetime
of employment. There has been a
steady paycheck with my name on
it for the past nine years.
My first job was pouring coffee
, at a retirement home. Eventually I
j worked my way up to meal serv
; ing, but just as I got the hang of
• that, a wonderful opportunity
! AAAAAAAAAAAAA
opened up at a local grocery store.
I spent nine months as a checker
in a red apron. I got a little tired of
trying to decipher the different kinds
of produce, so I requested a change.
Anne
Steyer
I became the first woman stocker
in the history of that small store.
Unfortunately, I didn’t make a whole
lot of money, nor did I get many
hours. So I supplemented my in
come with a second job at a vintage
clothing store. It was a great job,
4*4*42’^—uiaui
but the Lied Center needed to be
built, so they tore down the build
ing. I still have the key.
Then I made a great career move
and found my niche. I got a job at
a video store and began living,
breathing and sleeping movies. I
left there two weeks ago and I can’t
seem to shake the movie bug.
I have to go to the movies and
eat, so now I am wondering whether
I can part with the less listened-to
members of my CD collection so I
can get some cash.
The obvious answer would be
to find a new job. But getting a job
isn’t easy, especially when you are
out of practice. The last job I had, I
had for six years. (This is, ofcourse,
discounting the one-day love affair
with Mr. Limbaugh.)
I don’t really know where to
look. I always seemed to fall into
job opportunities, I never had to
actively pursue employment.
There is the Student Job Board
on the third floor of the Nebraska
Union, but I never see anything
that appeals to me. So much of it is
work study and the ones that aren’t
seem mainly to be domestic and
child care or kitchen work.
The state also prints up a list of
job openings every week, but I am
never qualified for any of those.
They always say “minimum two
years secretarial" or “some experi
ence preferred.”
Sometimes an opening will sound
perfect for me, then they throw a
loop at the end: “ Bachelor’s degree
in speech communication or equiva
lent preferred." .
I tried the classified ads in the
Sunday paper, but 1 think I am too
picky. I don’t really want to work
with food. I wouldn’t mind work
ing in a bar or restaurant as wait
staff, but cooking is totally out of
the question. I burn toast.
A job as a runner for a law firm
would be great, especially if I could
get in with a firm that allows the
runners to take on a little more
responsibility than just delivering
documents all over town. The
contacts might be worth it, but
runner jobs are impossible to get.
When they are available, the
competition is cutthroat. It is al
most an absolute prerequisite that
you know someone in the office.
Actually, any office job would
be OK, as long as it didn’t require
a typing test. I could never pass
one of those minimum 45 words-a
minule exams. I type looking at the
keyboard.
I can’t do phone work and I
can’t do any kind of canvassing.
Asking for personal information or
money is not my idea of a fun or
fulfilling job.
So where do I go from here? I
could give plasma but 1 have a
fjiant fear of needles and I don’t
ike the vacuum feeling I get when
they draw blood. I can’t even imag
ine the feeling I’d get when they
put the plasma-less blood back in.
I could do a Harris Labs study,
but I’m not over 45 or post-meno
pausal. I am also not a male 19- to
45-years-old. I guess I don’t qualify
f— .... u. t „u
ivyi an j i lanu i-aiy vy p ^yvy i iu i uti v\y<
Maybe I should maintain this
state of joblessness. It requires far
less energy to be poor than to look
for a job. I can always live off my
CD collection if 1 have to.
But if I sell all my music, I’ll have
to listen to the radio. Of course,
Rush Limbaugh then would infil
trate the FM dial.
Steyer Is a junior English major and
a Daily Nebraskan columnist.
Working beats
unemployment,
entrepreneurship
By Bryan Peterson
Senior Editor
You can read elsewhere in this
issue (p. 7 for instance) about all
the jobs I have had. But there have
also been times when I have not
had a job.
At first, being jobless always feels
great. There are no hours to keep,
no uniforms to wear, no alarms to
throw against the wall.
But after awhile, the money runs
out, and you have to start borrow
ing and scrimping and saving. A
few weeks of that, and being out of
work, gets to be more work than
actually having a job.
Just recently, I tried the other ex
treme. Being tired of working for
other people, I opened my own
business with a partner. It con
sumed my entire summer but has
been quite rewarding.
However, I am not only not
getting paid, but have found that
owning a business is of course
even more work than working for
someone else. Either way, it is more
work than 1 want to do.
^ vv V V V V’
I
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“Greetings,
conversationalists
across the fruited
plain, this is Rush
Limbaugh...
Amie DeFrain/DN
Scribbling
much better
than working
By Mark Baldridge
Staff Reporter
When I was a senior in high
school, I got a little career counsel
ing. They told me that I was wast
ing my talents scribbling away in
my notebooks, which is the only
thing I’ve ever been any good at.
They said that what I should
really be is an indentured servant.
I said I wanted to keep my own
teeth.
I think it is no accident, no mere
coincidence, that the Biblical char
acter most plagued by God — the
one whose life most approximated
Purgatory — was named Job.
One suffers with the patience of
Job.
Undergoes the trials of Job.
I know I do. And judging by the
crankiness of my colleagues, I’m
not the only one.
Let’s see... there are 24 hours in
a day, right? If I spend eight of them
at work, polishing the telephone
— anything, just so I look busy —
that’s a third of my day. Why, if j.
work my whole life, that’sa third of
my life!
Of course it’s not really a third.
There are weekends. But 1 dont
supposel really havetocountthem
if I don’t remember them when
they’re done.
Then there are two weeks vaca
tion and odd days off—sick-leave.
There arc the long stretches be
tween jobs: unemployment — and
worse.
Looking for work is worse than
See BALDRIDGE on 7
