Before I begin this article I will preface it with a blurb about my recent disappearance.  Unfortunately, I am a terrible blogger – not because I can’t seem to sit down in front of the computer everyday, but because I am more focused on trying to generate a legit income for myself and therefore, blogging often falls to the wayside.  In other words…eat me.

20 Degrees that Lead to Epic Financial Failure

I discovered this list in an article written by Lynn O’Shaughnessy on CNN, and found it hilarious.  Predominately because my degree, English, was not on there.  So after you see CNN’s list, I will give you my honorable mentions.

Listen, we all know that teachers make crap, but some of these degrees require intense or extra education including dietetics and social work which makes their pay bracket seem fairly unreasonable.  Plus, if I had to deal with deranged parents or fatties that refuse to put down the Twinkies, someone better be paying me enough to live comfortably on.  The amount on therapy and anti-depressants you will need to cope with your job should at least be covered by your salary – to bad for these people, it’s not.

However, there still seem to be a large number of honorable mentions that aren’t being given the credit they deserve.  So here you have it, the Angry Grad’s List of Honorable Mentions:

English – mainly because this is so close to my heart, but honestly say hello to a life of meager paychecks editing in a cramped cubicle or fighting other low-paid co-workers for the next lame story simply for the extra pay.  Average Salary: $32,000 although CareerBuilder.com said $47,000, I highly doubt this.

Classics – magical story time is over.  Have fun trying to tell your interviewer why knowing who Perseus is will help you flip burgers.  Average Salary: $33,000 with a Master’s

Philosophy – honestly, CNN.  How could you forget this one?  Most people who go into philosophy are told right off the bat that they will become nothing more than a rambling, wandering drunk.  The last time I checked, alcoholics made little. Average Salary: $40,000 with a Master’s

Political Science – no one cares if you can recite the Constitution, and you will not become the next president.  Have fun running coffee and getting yelled at by party extremists until someone gives your sorry self a chance.  Average Salary: $36,000

Women’s Studies – do I even have to legitimize this one?  Average Salary:  No Data Found…yeah, it’s that bad.

So what did we learn today?  That yet again, a college degree is not worth it unless you are going to grow up to be something ridiculous like a lawyer or doctor.  Even with that, have fun paying back $300,000 in student loans.

While looking for jobs and bidding on projects for freelance, I came across this article on Yahoo “Out-of-work Job Applicants Told Unemployed Need Not Apply”

This really boosts my confidence in where my life is headed.  I already new it would be difficult to obtain a job (I mean, let’s face it.  My track record doesn’t look too great), but I didn’t think that employers wouldn’t even look my way for being unemployed.  I could see why they might question me for being unemployed, but not even giving me an interview? That’s just ridiculous.

Do I even have a shot?  This totally makes it look like there is no way I will ever find employment again unless it is to flip burgers, roll burritos, or take drink orders.  Excellent.

I am a Class A Failure…..Depression Stage of Greiving has just returned.

Sorry, I have been very busy trying to get my life in order and completely forgot about the blog yesterday.  You should see this as a good thing!  It’s means I am sorting through things and overcoming grief!

Well, on with it now.  My partner and I have no internet in our house.  No, it’s not because we are that poor.  It’s because we recently bought a reno, and have yet to turn on the internet.  There had just been no reason to have it with only a bed, walls and floors in shambles, and delirous pets there to use it.

Now, however, that I am unemployed, I have desperately needed the internet to seek out jobs.  This gives me two choices in my small, crap town – McDonalds and Panera Bread.

I prefer Panera, but I don’t want to seem as though I am loitering there and get kicked out for good.  So I alternate every day between the two, and I hate my days spent at McDonalds.  The people here are terrible.  Not the employees by any means – it’s the customers.  They are truly horrid people.

While trying to work today, a giant fat man sat down across from me with four burger and two large fries and proceeded to chow them down in the classic, obese man fashion.  He even dribbled catch-up down the front of himself.  It just reminded me of Chris Farley in Tommy Boy when he eats in the car and Richard tells him that he can “hear him getting fatter.”

Then some little girl sat down right next to me and ate her icecream cone…when there wasn’t a flippin soul in the restaurant!  And I’m sorry, other people probably think little kids are great, but I think they are the devil.  And they eat like barbarians.  Every thing they put in their mouth sounds like they are smacking gum.

And the icing on the cake was the woman who sat at the table next to me and proceeded to scream into her phone about how she shouldn’t have called her car a “punkass” because then the brakes went out.

I lost it, and quickly packed up my stuff.  If I didn’t, I was going to have a mental breakdown and throw chairs.

How the employees stand it is beyond me.

So it’s officially been one week since I was terminated and the anger still resides, but what am I to do about it?  I feel truly wronged and am completely infuriated by it.  I was the by-product of an unfair trial, and now I want my justice.

I filed for unemployment today – I had to fill out a whole other document because I was fired.  This still leaves me wondering who actually can recieve unemployment.  “No fault of your own” leaves room only for the disabled, and like I said before….that is what disability is for!  I had to go to a Kinkos/ Fedex to send it and had quite a few looks from the clerks there who had to fax it for me.  I thought I would be mildly embarrassed, but I wasn’t even close to being so.

I was treated unfairly.  I was uneducated and then persecuted  for it.  I have every right to file for unemployment.  I’ve been working since I was fifteen.  I’m legit.

Regardless, with that moving I was able to swing to the next task and just get my mind away from the events that took place a week ago.  I have started working with freelancing, and will hopefully get on me feet.  I have scored a small gig, but need to get a few more to keep the cash flow decent enough.  When it comes down to it, I was only make $18,000 at the non-profit.  Let’s hope to God I can be a good enough freelancer to at least make that.

I have to…at this point no one is going to hire me to sit in their office, and I am still having nightmares about having to go back to food.

Please, God.  Don’t let it be so.

When I was a kid, my mother and siblings used to sing me a song they created call “Lonely Girl.”  Most of the song consisted of them singing in long off-key tones “OOOOooooohhhhhhh, Loooonelyyyyy Grrrrrilllllllll!” and if you can imagine, I absolutely resented it.  I was awkward in my younger years – classic nerd with great grades, unkempt red hair, and quite a few extra pounds – so friends were harder to come by.  My kid sister was a petite athletic blonde who always seemed to have her social calendar filled so when she left on a Friday evening and I sat at home “Lonely Girl” was sung to me.

I think the hardest part of my termination has been the numerous hours I spend alone.  I am a human.  I need human interaction, and the interaction my co-workers provided was just enough to get me through my day.  After graduating college, most of my friends returned home or left for grander graduate school adventures while I stayed behind.  There is really no one left that I can hang out with, and those who I could hang out with work while I am at home.

I’m normally one that really enjoys my alone time, but the amount that I am experiencing now is just a bit too much.  I have full blown conversations with my geriatric dog and the loud-mouthed cat simply because they are the only ones around.  It’s quite sad.  I even hum “Lonely Girl” to myself to break the silence.  When my partner comes home, I completely bombard him with questions about the outside world, demanding that he gives me every once of his attention even though I know all he wants is some down time.

I’m going to have to find a good outlet for this…some volunteer work would be good.  Just something that will get me out of the house and talking to people.  If not, I am going to completely lose my mind.

I know that I told you all that I would write this yesterday, but I also forewarned you that I am an inconsistent blogger.  Regardless, here it is:

Once upon a time, I worked for a wonderful non-profit which I adored – and still do.  I still believe in the organization’s mission and outreach programs just not what happened to me.  Anyway, I wrote grants, researched, edited, and wrote content for the organization’s websites, and proofread and wrote content for publications.  My title was Research and Publications and I was proud.  Finally a job with a mission that isn’t aiding America’s obesity problem!  Just marvelous, I tell you!  Marvelous!

Because it was a smaller non-profit (the work it does is on a national scale, however, money coming in kept the corporate office small), corners were cut to save costs.  This is expected for a non-profit with limited funding, but I didn’t mind.  In fact, I took a pay cut from my previous fast food job to work there.  Since the office staff had nearly doubled, the organization implemented “comp time” to use towards paying workers for their overtime hours.  I had many overtime hours from working one weekend and during our national conference, but there were also several hours I didn’t log that I spent trying to finish grant applications or finishing research.  Staying after and not logging my hours was my decision, and many of my other co-workers did the same.  It was for the good of our organization so none of us really cared.  We just wanted to see our company succeed.

I think I had banked something like 35 comp hours.  Unlike a previous office I worked for, comp hours weren’t used within the same pay period.  You just had this bank of hours floating somewhere, and were never really sure how many you had or how many you had used.  You just assumed you were good unless someone said otherwise.  No one really knew how to use or document used comp time either, but our supervisor’s never said anything so we figured we were good.

Total fail on my part.

I should have written down everything – even if I had 15 hours of overtime one week.  On May 28th, I had to get my car licensed.  It quickly became an epic event after spending $500 to replace a windshield and a manifold,and spending 3 hours at the DMV.  I was supposed to be at work so I sent my supervisor a text saying “Hey could I just call it a day and make up the hours for today next week?”  This was a common practice in our office and I had used it before when I left for vacation.  “Sure, no problem,” was the response.

The following week I came in Monday evening (yes, Memorial Day) from 8-11pm, arrived early (8:00am) and left late (6:30-7pm) Tuesday – Thursday, and arrived early on Friday (8:00am).  I had worked from 9:00am-10:30am on Friday the 28th so I really only needed to make up 6.5 hours.  I made up 9.5.  When asked for my timesheet on June 7th (we have two week pay periods), I filled my out as follows.

May 24:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

May 25:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

May 26:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

May 27:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

May 28:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

May 31:   8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm <- Holiday Pay

June 1:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

June 2:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

June 3:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

June 4:  8:30-12:00pm 12:30-5:00pm

Fatal flaw #1: I wrote down that I worked May 28

Fatal flaw #2: I didn’t write down all the hours that I worked May31st-June 4th

I was fired over writing down that I worked on the 28th even though I had told my boss that I would be making that time up the following week, and even though she saw me show up early and leave way later than my scheduled time during that week.  And if I even wanted to get technical about it, I worked those hours probably a month and a half ago while we were at the conference.  Regardless those hours are overtime that I have worked!  If we have to leave early or can’t make it in to work, the hours are usually just magically filled in by comp time anyway.

I wasn’t allowed to explain myself.  In my shock I was able to mutter out “comp time” and “I worked those hours the next week,” while my boss continued to squall “I give and I give and I give.”  Funny thing is – so I have I.  I gave the company many evenings – even came in and worked a few weekends, and then my boss has the audacity to accuse me of stealing hours which is equivalent to stealing money?

Why didn’t I just write down the exact hours, you ask?  Well, here’s the thing.  The lady who does our pay stubs works an odd schedule and isn’t in the office a full day.  She has no idea from being around us when we leave or when we come in.  I didn’t want to have it look like I had overtime and receive more comp time, so I just wrote in the hours I had made up for the 28th on the 28th.  That makes sense, right?  My supervisor is supposed to sign off on my timesheet anyway to make sure it’s all okay.  Nothing was said that would suggest otherwise.  I’ve always written down my comp time and make up time like that and no one has ever said anything so I always thought I was in the clear.

For comic release, I will give you this tidbit.  A co-worker and I were discussing comp time and how we have no idea how to use it, how much we really have, and whether or not we are being screwed by it minutes before I was fired over it.  We were both clueless about it, and when I got fired over it, my co-worker just about lost it.  She flew out of her chair and was just blown away saying she couldn’t believe how this was being handled.  It was almost movie-esque though that one minute we are talking about not understanding if we are using comp time right and then the next I get fired over it.

Since the termination, I have sent my boss the same email twice explaining what I have just told you.  I apologized for the inconveniences it has caused her, and told her that I did not want to hurt the organization in any way.  It was all a misunderstanding.  I have received no response, and when I had to pick up my box of crap, she quickly left for the back of the office so she wouldn’t have to look at me.

And I think that is the hardest part of it all…I really did love my job, my co-workers, and what the organization stood for.  I had no motive to hurt it.  Shoot, my job was to bring money in!  Why would I try to steal it?  I can understand how my timesheet could be perceived as faulty, but what I can’t understand is why I was accused of not working those hours when they knew I had said I would be making up the hours May 31-June4, and saw me there before and after my scheduled time.

If anyone is listening, give me some thoughts

So depression ended shortly after watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall and eating half a pizza. I’m sure it will linger in and out throughout the upcoming days as well as the other stages of grief, but for right now I am feeling much better. I’m actually rather shocked that I haven’t gone out and boozed it up since the break up. Go me!

In fact, I’m pretty sure that I am fairly thankful. Key phrase being “pretty sure.” I may no longer be employed, but I do have my partner and his support, our fixer-upper home complete with no stove and doorless bathrooms, and my car that has been revived so many times after accidents that it’s amazing it still runs. I’m in reasonably good health so all should be okay. I’ll watch Mulan later tonight and it will make me feel as though I can accomplish anything.

Yes, watching movies is a coping mechanism of mine. I’ll watch Lion King tomorrow and then promptly proceed to conquer the world.

The idle hands have been a little awkward to deal with. I actually drove bills to their destinations instead of popping them in the mail, and even went back to my former place of employment to pick up left behind items. I don’t know that I’m ready to tell that story yet. When I talk about it, I get angry which probably means that I haven’t fully accepted it yet – or that the situation was indeed botched and I have every right to be angry because of the injustice that reigned down upon me.

Regardless…tomorrow will be the day that I tell the tale. I think that I will be better by then. Plus, I will need a way to cope with all my free time. In the meantime, watch this clip. It fully expresses the way I feel about my current state:

Mulan

I’m normally not one to blame others…or, in this case, fate. Most of the time when something happens, I can be found at the cause of it.

Examples.
Credit Card debt is high because I just had to buy all the seasons of Heroes and Dexter at once
I had a bad morning because I left my coffee sitting on the roof of my car
I chose an English degree and have therefore gotten no where

Today was not one of those days. You may remember – probably not…you’re probably a new reader because I can’t post daily for the life of me and therefore do NOT retain a readership – that I finally was able to quit my fast food job for a wonderful, non-profit job where I was going to be able to write grants and enjoy weekends.

Yes, that happened to me for a brief period. I had a job that incorporated my degree.

Well today that job came to an end. I was fired after being accused of falsifying timesheets. Whiskey…Tango…Foxtrot. My job was to bring money into the organization! Why in the world would I steal from it?! I could go into the details, but let’s just say you should believe me, and that if you’re employer ever offers to pay you in comp time as opposed to the overtime hours you deserve, you should tell them “no.”

Needless to say, I am now back at the bottom. Unemployed with an English degree. God save me, or perhaps, God make sense of all of this. Why have I been brought back to this level!? I am back to being down and out with a college degree!