For three sweet weeks in 2008 while the economy was on the brink of extinction, I decorated cupcakes. The job—froster at a cupcakes-only bakery—came from my roommate, who worked there on weekends. She was working part-time at the ACLU during the week. The decorator job opened up when she got a full-time spot campaigning for Death with Dignity.
Over at n+1, a reader writes into Kristin Dombek at the Help Desk, asking for help to cope with her feeling of being exploited by work, and the “white-hot festering rage that runs at all times in the background of my day to day.”