Mystery Achievement

Most of the time, I enjoy my job. Although this would seem to be stating the obvious (why stay at a job you don't enjoy?), I've worked at enough places to know that this is never guaranteed. I enjoy the fact that my responsibilities encompass a wide range of different tasks. I genuinely like the majority of the people with which I work. Best of all for me, the money is quite good and the commute is literally walking distance.

As far as I know (and I probably would have been made aware of this awhile ago if this wasn't the case), the way that I handle my job is well respected. This is evidently no small feat, as there are quite a number of divergent personalities on the managerial level and I have had to deal with each of them in one way or another. In fact, I was assigned to a project that was already in process so that I could act as liaison between the project manager and a particularly "difficult" client.

There's only one issue, but it's turning into a doozy: I'm a consultant.

Consultant, for those not versed in CorpSpeak slang, is simply a dignified title for a temporary employee--which is, in essence, what I actually am. Becoming a consultant was not a planned step in my career evolution, which is probably why I've been one for the better part of the last three years.

Up until last year, I wouldn't have even made the distinction between consultancy and full-time employment. The categories were a heck of a lot broader a few years ago: either I was working or I wasn't. But the distinction became a lot more important once I knew that MLW was pregnant for one reason and one reason only: health insurance. This became an even more important consideration once MLW was laid off from her job and we faced the prospect of having to pay COBRA.

Now, I'm not about to begin crying poverty--I'm paid relatively well for my job--but paying for COBRA currently eats approximately 25% of my net pay. You read that right: twenty-five percent. And, in the (unlikely) event that MLW or I haven't procured full-time employment by the time COBRA runs out, we'll end up paying even more for private insurance.

I had begun speaking with my boss about the possibility of being converted to a full-time employee last year. And though it was not something that we discussed on a weekly basis, it looked like the conversion was on track to happen this month...until it wasn't. The reason was that old saw that gets trotted out when any business expense doesn't get paid: budget restrictions.

As much as it will pain me to do it, it may well be time for me to pull up my stakes and move on. The birth of the Beach Ghostlette was not a surprise at my workplace, nor was the importance I placed on receiving healthcare, and a portion of me feels as if the purse-string holders weighed the options of going over budget or potentially losing a good employee and chose the latter. And it not only costs me some dosh to pay for COBRA, but every day or half-day I have to take to mind the mini-BG (as was the case the majority of last week) cuts into that week's paycheck.

I realize, of course, that this probably comes across as so much whining. Companies don't exist to provide me with employment, things are tough all over, I'm lucky to have a job, blah blah blah. But simply getting a portion of the package really isn't sufficient anymore; I feel I've earned the right, not simply because I've put in the time but because I've actually proven my value.

More on this as events warrant (and readers tolerate).

Next: The worst of the best of 2004