Fear Factor

Just received a New York Life 2008 desk calendar from my insurance agent. I'm sure she meant to use the calendar as an excuse to see me, just to get a chance to re-ignite my interest in saving a million dollars in five years' time. She had worked out the math for me five months ago, but because I decided to ditch my job and spend a month in France and Italy, the million dollars had to wait. I could almost hear her jaw dropping over the phone two days ago when I told her that I had quit my new job and was—again—in no position to invest.

Usually by this time of the year, I'd be giddy in anticipation of my favorite holiday season. But having spent all my savings over the past three months and with no real job prospect in sight, I'm feeling less and less prepared for even another day.

Definitely not ready for the New Year.

I've noticed that my insurance agent is almost too eager to talk about illnesses and death every time we meet. She'd start with harmless info sharing like where she just purchased a wok for $99; property prices around the area; her mother-in-law's habit of collecting cans from garbage bins… but then she'd always find a way to bring up her health problems, her husband's health problems, her friend's health problems, and her friend's friend's health problems.

This time, it was lupus.

I don't think it was a coincidence that the girl she talked about died from the disease at around my age. There must be a module in Insurance 101 called "How to keep your clients scared shitless".

I've been contributing a good amount to my insurance policy every month for over three years now, and (knock on wood) the calendar is about the most I've gotten out of it. What I need now is insurance against unemployment, unsuitable employment, underpaid employment and the like—insurance that will save my ass comes January when I need to feed the government with money I don't have.