Thanks, Joseph Heller

My own personal government bailout--unemployment benefits--is pretty great. I can eat, pay a few bills, and not have to deplete my savings so rapidly. It is, however, a government program, and it's administered with a level of absurdity we regular folks couldn't conceive of without copious amounts of alcohol in our bloodstream.

Looking for work is, at best, grueling. The senator who complained that the stimulus package won't create "jobs," only "work," needs a dictionary--and a smack upside the head. We don't care, senator. We just want it. I'm grateful to Joseph Heller for writing Catch-22 in 1961 and hilariously pointing out the madness of trying to satisfy conflicting government regulations . I'm grateful to Heller for teaching me to laugh at the madness.You should be too; the laughter keeps you from having to see a Boomer woman running down the street, tearing out her thinning hair and screaming.

One of my professional friends invited me to a monthly lunch meeting with high-powered women in business. Women who might need a writer for various assignments. (Stop snickering! Yes I can write professional stuff!) I signed up and paid the non-refundable $55.

Then the mail came. The letter from Employment Security said I had to come in for an appointment on the day and at the time of the businesswomen's lunch. I called and explained the situation. No, they said, I couldn't change the date. Or the time. Or the office, which is 10 miles from my house instead of the one that is a mile down the hill from me. Nope, nope, nope. Just do as you're told. "Oh-kaaay," I said, "Instead of actually trying to get work, I have to come in and talk about trying to get work, right?" The young woman on the phone chuckled. I think she may have read Joseph Heller.

I did as I was told. It's part of my bailout plan. I coulda used that 55 bucks, though.