Would I hire me?

There’s this current debacle going on at home involving us and
the hospital
and the
insurance company
. The insurance company, after happily processing all submitted bills related to maternity care, suddenly, when faced with The Whopper (i.e. hospitalization and the actual delivery and birth) said, “hold on, we think this is pre-existing. If it’s pre-existing, we don’t have to pay.” And we looked at the portion they said we’d have to pay and I had to put my head between my knees and breathe into a paper bag. There have been phone calls to the insurance company and to the hospital and conference calls and more breathing into paper bags, and looking at the Unpaid Total and wanting to weep.

And so in despair I flipped open
the local newspaper
to the classifieds and saw, lit with a celestial glow, an ad for…A WRITER. Full time. With benefits. Hello. I’m a writer. Okay, my last journalism experience happened in high school and they probably would want me to report on the Wooden Boat Festival without adding colorful alien invasions or Bigfoot sightings to make things more interesting. But it’s an actual job I’m almost sort of qualified for. With benefits. As long as hard-hitting journalism consisting of “why does the border patrol care about the Port Angeles Farmer’s Market? Obama loves organic vegetables,”doesn’t make the editor weep and say I’m not supposed to be writing opinion pieces. Or fiction.

See, as soon as I thought about it, I thought about how I would actually do this job, and really, I had to ask: would I hire me? Because these are the things I think about the local news: that sea lion on Highway 101, was it drunk at the time it decided to go for a walk and then resist arrest? The salal harvest permit number, was it arrived at after taking environmental impact factors into consideration, and by that I mean, the possibility of loss of habitat for Bigfoot resulting in more Jefferson County Bigfoot sightings?

Honestly, I’m not sure I’d hire me. But I’m really entertaining myself thinking about what I could bring to local journalism.

10 thoughts on “Would I hire me?

  1. Totally understand the breathe-slowly part. There was one big statement that came from UAB that — even though it was covered — put me in tears. It was six times the worth of our house.

    This is what wine is for.


  2. Charli says:

    Amy, I can only imagine. At least The Whopper isn’t that bad, but still, it’s a Very Large Number. Pass the wine.


  3. MJ says:

    Oooh, benefits are tempting. Good luck if you decide to go for it–and double good luck negotiating with the hospital and the insurance overlords. When we got stuck with an unexpected Whopper, the surgeon and anesthesiologist agreed to cut their bills. The hospital (a hospital named after a saint!) wouldn’t budge, so DH lectured them on the tenets of faith and then stretched out their payments as long as possible.


  4. Charli says:

    Benefits are worth a whole lot. Thanks for the good wishes. It’ll all get resolved one way or another eventually, and in the meantime I’m just grateful that everybody’s in good health. Health problems are harder to solve!


  5. Charli says:

    Sasha, I think I should at least try to be a freelancer because I’m really very interested. Getting an actual FT job would mean putting the baby in FT daycare, which is a pretty weighty decision, but possibly there’s something between either/or. Thanks for the link, fun stuff!


  6. All my sympathy, Charli. Have been ranting for some time about the cost of doctors & medicine lately, & have found myself reduced to tears. If the medical problem doesn’t kill ya…

    And I’d say give the freelancing a shot! Worst they can say is, “thank you for your submission…unfortunately…” :-/


  7. Charli says:

    Raine, I hear you on the tears. Our typical approach is to practice prevention like crazy people and avoid medical intervention, but for some things there’s no avoiding it. I am seriously considering freelancing as a sideline. Of course, I need to look at ways to free up my time to add that.


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