Working From Home: 2-23-10

Ballad of the uninsured in America

I knew full-well going into this whole self-employment adventure that health insurance was going to be a big problem. You see, as much as I otherwise love my country, its current system of health care is about as backwards as an ass could possibly be.

Wisconsin has some fairly progressive state-run programs for those people who lose their insurance (or never get it in the first place). I was on BadgerCare back in those first few years out of college when all I had was a coffee shop job. Between that and the Family Planning Waiver, I was able to enjoy an at least basic level of security.

Having cast off my full-time desk job on purpose, however, I don't qualify for BadgerCare. See, you either have to get through 12 months of being uninsured (and presumably unemployed) before you can sign up, or have been laid off through no fault of your own. BadgerCare Core, the program for single adults without children like me, has currently frozen its enrollment anyway, so I would have ended up on a waiting list even if I had qualified.

I would like to point out that the Core plan had only existed for only four months before so many people had applied that they had to freeze enrollment. That should tell you something about the incredible need for any coverage at all in this state, not to mention country.

But I shouldn't complain, right? After all, I chose to leave my job with an insurance plan. There are far too many people who've just plain been forced out of work, many of whom have families to support and far greater health needs than me. I respect that. Heck my family's been there. Yet while I recognize that my situation is the result of my own decision--and so far I wouldn't take it back for all the world--I also stand firmly by my assertion that our health care system is fucked beyond belief.

Why should someone who takes the initiative to strike out on their own in pursuit of more fulfilling work have to go without health care? Why should anyone, regardless of their situation, have to go without health care?

They shouldn't. Period. Which is part of why watching the most recent debate over health care on a political level has been so painful. There had been some hope of getting universal coverage, the so-called "public option," before politicians pissed it all away in the vain hope of placating those on the far-right fringes who cried "socialism!" as though it was a bad thing when it came to the very health and well-being of their fellow citizens.

Because you know what that "socialism" would have meant for, say, someone like me? It would mean that this now empty bottle of pills I'm holding wouldn't cost me over $700 to refill (where it cost $20 with insurance). It would mean I'd be able to continue treating a stomach disorder that, left unchecked, tends to cause severe pain and make it difficult for me to properly digest food.

It would mean that people, like my own family some years ago, wouldn't have to worry about going bankrupt because someone got sick. That's just messed up.

But you all know this already. Today I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself and wanted to rant. That done, the next step is waiting for my doctor to call me back and come up with some sort of plan for taking care of my butt sans insurance. There is no generic for the medication I've been taking, so I'm not sure what the solution is, but I'm hopeful that something can be figured out. Fingers crossed.


(photo by macwagen on Flickr)

Ode to the Fire Ball

Over the weekend, I helped throw the second annual Fire Ball at the High Noon Saloon - and was exceedingly pleased to have it be a smashing success. We nearly packed the place with fabulously dressed people, enjoyed excellent performances from several talented folks, and then had ourselves a killer dance party courtesy of DJ Chen-Cheng (currently fighting for the position of My Favorite DJ in Madison).

I was also psyched because I got to perform an act with my very own sister. And thanks to my good friend and near-constant filmmaker Rob Matsushita, the performance was recorded for posterity:

The whole thing was great fun--exhausting, of course, but great fun nonetheless--and I'm confident that we'll be able to keep throwing this event every year for a while yet. Madison seems to enjoy it, and I know I do, too.

Now mostly recovered from my big weekend, I've been slowly getting into the groove of being self-employed. Next week, you can expect regular Lost Albatross updates to begin in earnest, including what I hope will be a helpful series of tips and tricks for other people looking to do freelance work, as well as more personal, (hopefully) humorous stories about every day life outside of the cubical.

(Many, many more photos from the Fire Ball are available at Dane101.com)

Quit your day job

I've been planning for this day, officially, for the last 6 months. Unofficially it's a move I've always wanted to make, but the stars have only recently aligned themselves so that the decision could be slightly less stupid than normal.

I've quit my day job.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I've gone against the oldest advice cliche in the book and given up a perfectly good, stable desk job at an incredibly decent company in favor of the rather terrifying unknowns of life as a freelance writer and musician.

In the middle of the biggest economic downturn since the Great Depression.

I think this may nullify any future rights to give advice to anyone about anything, ever.

But regardless of whether time shows this to be the best or worst decision of my life, there was really no getting around it. I simply don't have the temperament or aptitude for a 9-5 desk job. I was going a little mad. Plus, I can think of no better time in life than now to leap into such uncertainty, since I don't have kids and don't own a home.

The enormity of the move is not lost on me, mind you. Not a day has gone by in the last several months that I haven't wrestled with the decision, wavering between excited determination and abject horror--sometimes all in the span of mere minutes. What about paying the rent? What about food? What about health care, for cryin' out loud?

Actually, I've managed to plan things out in advance enough that the only serious question lingering now is the last one: Health care. I am about to re-join the ranks of the uninsured. Look ma, I'm a statistic! And sure, there may be some real progress made on that front in terms of the national health reform bill now being debated in Washington DC (by a bunch of jerks who don't have to worry about health insurance themselves). And yes, thankfully Wisconsin does offer a family planning waiver that covers my lady business for free.

But my prescriptions? And dental care? Any unforeseen accidents or illnesses? Fuggitaboutit. My country just doesn't do health rights. It prefers paid privileges. So I'll likely be lacking--for a while anyway--crossing my fingers that nothing pops up in the meantime to bankrupt me. We'll see.

On to the more exciting stuff:

I now get to focus almost exclusively on my writing and music. That's seriously awesome. And as part of it all, I'm going to focus this here blog a lot more clearly, chronicling the trials and tribulations of what it means to be a freelancer while also attempting to provide useful tips and tricks to those thinking of doing the same. So you can follow along out of curiosity, schadenfreude, or whatever tickles your pickle, really. I can pretty much promise that it's going to be an interesting ride.

Wish me luck!