Yesterday marked the
one-year anniversary of my first assignment for my remote writing position.
It also marked one year since somebody showed confidence in me that I could still do some work in the business world for someone.
After having been out of work since October 2019—several months before the pandemic hit and millions of other people joined me on the unemployment line—here I was, at age 63, with nothing.
Then my plight was heard about by certain people who at least knew my name—one former Pentagon executive in particular—and right before my unemployment insurance was set to run out, I was hired for this remove writing job that I have now had for this past year.
It is a good side job, and it allows me a lot of maneuverability in what I do personally and certainly financially, even though the law does not allow me to break the bank with the salary I get from them.
Unfortunately, I had to retire before the job came to the fore, because I had to protect both myself and my family from complete chaos if I didn’t do that.
If the job would have come around just a few weeks earlier, perhaps I could have staved off retirement, but it simply did not happen, and here I was, at age 63, with nothing … and then this little job came out of nowhere, and now, it is a solid year where I have been somewhat employed.
During the past year, I have written and/or edited well more than 200 articles during this period, and I have another one to do today, as I have to cover a virtual conference held by the Navy Exchange Service Command (NEXCOM), the organization that runs the Navy exchanges, or the Navy’s department stores.
When you add everything all up, between my last job and this remote one, I have covered what is called the military resale industry—military stores for service members and their families, as well as retirees and other personnel—for about 25 years, and getting this position demonstrates that people did know my name and were willing to give me a chance, at least in this industry.
So where do I sit now that I have been in this position for the past year?
I am managing, and I am very grateful that this thing came up, but let me tell you, the pain from my unemployment lingers to this day.
At 63 years of age, with all my years of my career acting like a millstone around my neck, I had nothing.
No one wanted to hire me, period, for whatever reasons that they had. The complete lack of interest shown in me by those doing the hiring at the more than 1,000 companies/positions that I applied for over that period of unemployment really hurt me, and yes, it hurt my ego, too.
Over that period of time—which encompassed the beginning and worst months of the pandemic—I had exactly four interviews, two in-person prior to the coming of the pandemic and two over the phone.
Four out of more than 1,000 isn’t a very good percentage, but I simply kept a good game face on the entire time, hoping that someone would see what I could bring to the table and give me a chance.
It never happened.
I kept myself busy—I wrote a novel that no one wanted to publish, I did some things around the house that needed to be done, I helped my parents out in whatever way I could, and I helped my son get through his own unemployment period—but it was difficult, and I mean, really difficult, to get this thing straight in my head that no one wanted me.
Yes, the pandemic had a lot to do with it, but so did my age, but like I have said 1,000 times, go prove it.
A turning point in my thinking came when I filled out an application for a writing job and one of the questions was about my sexuality.
Yes, whether I was gay or straight or LGBTQ or whatever my gender of choice was.
I reported the company to New York State, and later was contacted by the attorney general's office, who said it was LEGAL in New York State to ask such a question, as long as there was an opt-out in the question, which in this case there was.
I was cooked, and I knew it from that point on.
I had no choice but to file for early retirement, and that is just what I did.
At age 63 and now at age 64, I felt that the business world cheated me out of my true retirement.
I wanted to work until age 70, which would allow me to choose my own time to retire, like most people do. In fact, my wife has chosen to retire this coming November—when she turns 65—and some other relatives we know are planning to do the same when they choose to, when they reach a certain age in their lives.
Me, I never had the choice, and that choice was taken away from me when the company I worked at went out of business after more than 50 years, nearly half of which I spent there.
I am not a jealous person, but I am envious of people who can decide their own career destiny.
That was completely taken away from me, so there were no retirement parties, no retirement gifts, no retirement hoopla … I just retired because I had to, and that still does not sit well with me.
Sure, I am only “semi-retired,” but it is simply not the same thing.
Again, I am very grateful that I got this little job out of nowhere, and honestly, I don’t know what I would be doing now if I didn’t get this position.
But the emptiness remains, the feeling that I didn’t choose to retire, it was dumped and forced upon me, that still remains, and while it is fun to not have to dress for work anymore, I kind of miss the office setting and the office camaraderie that I got during all those years of employment.
Who knows what the future holds?
(One thing that happened during the past year is that my eyesight has slipped at bit, and early tomorrow morning, I have another appointment with a retina specialist to look over my eyes.
Thus, I will have to skip tomorrow's Rant, and I will be back in full force on Friday.
It also marked one year since somebody showed confidence in me that I could still do some work in the business world for someone.
After having been out of work since October 2019—several months before the pandemic hit and millions of other people joined me on the unemployment line—here I was, at age 63, with nothing.
Then my plight was heard about by certain people who at least knew my name—one former Pentagon executive in particular—and right before my unemployment insurance was set to run out, I was hired for this remove writing job that I have now had for this past year.
It is a good side job, and it allows me a lot of maneuverability in what I do personally and certainly financially, even though the law does not allow me to break the bank with the salary I get from them.
Unfortunately, I had to retire before the job came to the fore, because I had to protect both myself and my family from complete chaos if I didn’t do that.
If the job would have come around just a few weeks earlier, perhaps I could have staved off retirement, but it simply did not happen, and here I was, at age 63, with nothing … and then this little job came out of nowhere, and now, it is a solid year where I have been somewhat employed.
During the past year, I have written and/or edited well more than 200 articles during this period, and I have another one to do today, as I have to cover a virtual conference held by the Navy Exchange Service Command (NEXCOM), the organization that runs the Navy exchanges, or the Navy’s department stores.
When you add everything all up, between my last job and this remote one, I have covered what is called the military resale industry—military stores for service members and their families, as well as retirees and other personnel—for about 25 years, and getting this position demonstrates that people did know my name and were willing to give me a chance, at least in this industry.
So where do I sit now that I have been in this position for the past year?
I am managing, and I am very grateful that this thing came up, but let me tell you, the pain from my unemployment lingers to this day.
At 63 years of age, with all my years of my career acting like a millstone around my neck, I had nothing.
No one wanted to hire me, period, for whatever reasons that they had. The complete lack of interest shown in me by those doing the hiring at the more than 1,000 companies/positions that I applied for over that period of unemployment really hurt me, and yes, it hurt my ego, too.
Over that period of time—which encompassed the beginning and worst months of the pandemic—I had exactly four interviews, two in-person prior to the coming of the pandemic and two over the phone.
Four out of more than 1,000 isn’t a very good percentage, but I simply kept a good game face on the entire time, hoping that someone would see what I could bring to the table and give me a chance.
It never happened.
I kept myself busy—I wrote a novel that no one wanted to publish, I did some things around the house that needed to be done, I helped my parents out in whatever way I could, and I helped my son get through his own unemployment period—but it was difficult, and I mean, really difficult, to get this thing straight in my head that no one wanted me.
Yes, the pandemic had a lot to do with it, but so did my age, but like I have said 1,000 times, go prove it.
A turning point in my thinking came when I filled out an application for a writing job and one of the questions was about my sexuality.
Yes, whether I was gay or straight or LGBTQ or whatever my gender of choice was.
I reported the company to New York State, and later was contacted by the attorney general's office, who said it was LEGAL in New York State to ask such a question, as long as there was an opt-out in the question, which in this case there was.
I was cooked, and I knew it from that point on.
I had no choice but to file for early retirement, and that is just what I did.
At age 63 and now at age 64, I felt that the business world cheated me out of my true retirement.
I wanted to work until age 70, which would allow me to choose my own time to retire, like most people do. In fact, my wife has chosen to retire this coming November—when she turns 65—and some other relatives we know are planning to do the same when they choose to, when they reach a certain age in their lives.
Me, I never had the choice, and that choice was taken away from me when the company I worked at went out of business after more than 50 years, nearly half of which I spent there.
I am not a jealous person, but I am envious of people who can decide their own career destiny.
That was completely taken away from me, so there were no retirement parties, no retirement gifts, no retirement hoopla … I just retired because I had to, and that still does not sit well with me.
Sure, I am only “semi-retired,” but it is simply not the same thing.
Again, I am very grateful that I got this little job out of nowhere, and honestly, I don’t know what I would be doing now if I didn’t get this position.
But the emptiness remains, the feeling that I didn’t choose to retire, it was dumped and forced upon me, that still remains, and while it is fun to not have to dress for work anymore, I kind of miss the office setting and the office camaraderie that I got during all those years of employment.
Who knows what the future holds?
(One thing that happened during the past year is that my eyesight has slipped at bit, and early tomorrow morning, I have another appointment with a retina specialist to look over my eyes.
Thus, I will have to skip tomorrow's Rant, and I will be back in full force on Friday.
Speak to you then.)
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