With this autumn’s focus on increased living costs in Norway, there will naturally also be an increased focus on those of us who have the least; those who go on minimum rates from the state. And we hear again and again that even if everyone should give according to their ability and get according to need, then it should pay to work. As someone who is outside the working world themselves, and is disabled, it is easy to think that it is only those who have never been outside themselves who believe that profitability is about kroner and øre. For anyone who has been or is out of working life over time knows that it pays to work – in a thousand other ways than the financial one. If I had been paid exactly the same amount of money in benefits as I had in a job, I would still choose to work. I don’t have that choice. With work you get a salary – but you also get a lot of other things, which may be invisible to those who have never left home. Work is social inclusion. There are colleagues, small talk and someone to have lunch with. If you want to get the same as a sick person or a pensioner, you have to actively seek out someone to talk to – it doesn’t happen by itself in the same way that you get to talk to someone over the coffee machine or when you solve a task together at work. I have posted a personal ad on social media to look for other people who are also free during the day. Because when my friends can hang out after work, I have often already used up the day’s energy on everyday tasks. It is vulnerable to look for new friends in adulthood, but there are many who also have the same experiences as me, and they can be found far and wide on the internet. Handbook for chroniclers has become my social network on Instagram, for all those days when I don’t have the energy to seek people out, or have visitors. Jobs also provide routines. Work gives you a reason to get up every day. When I don’t get the routines through work, I have to make daily plans, weekly plans and monthly plans. It requires effort, willpower and energy. It’s hard to commit yourself, day after day, without someone missing you if you sleep past lunch. Participation in working life is for many an important part of identity: “What do you do for a living?” is the most frequently asked question when meeting new people. How to answer that question is a hot topic among chroniclers. For who are we when we are not working? With work also comes content in everyday life, self-respect and meaning. If you have a normally pleasant job, it also comes with recognition for the work you do, even praise from the boss on a good day. All people want to contribute something, do something that matters. It is, if not impossible, terribly difficult to make sense of yourself when you are not seen by others in everyday life. I, and many people with me, try to fill my days with needlework in order to help create something, even if it is limited to home-knitted socks or illustrations for Instagram. I wish I found it sufficient, but it is a real sadness that I don’t get to have a job that I can be good at and useful in. There are so many positive, and very important things that come from having a job. Those of us who do not have the opportunity to work must use time, and energy we often do not have enough of, to fulfill these human needs in other ways. It’s demanding, and I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t rather have a normal job. Illness is not self-selected. And no one gets well faster or feels better from having poor affordability as well. On the contrary, it is adding stones to the burden of people who are already struggling.
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