Job security was never something I took very seriously. I was indispensable, the glue that held the department, and by virtue, the company - together. I worked as an assistant trader on a fixed income desk in Wall Street West (the metropolis formerly known as Jersey City), with the same characters for the better part of six years. Over time, we grew from a mismatch of divergent personalities into a cohesive unit - a well-oiled machine. When we decided to mosey to the (hopefully) greener pastures of a new firm, we went together.

It was not unlike going away to college with your best friends - we were not alone because we had each other. The company had me at "free lunch." In this economy, fringe benefits have gone the way of expense accounts. Since our new bosses had obviously not received this memo, they took good care of their employees, and not just at bonus time.

I lived in Hoboken with my best friend in a cute (important) affordable (more important) apartment and had just returned from two weeks in Italy where gorgeous men literally fell at my feet with adoration (you'd have to look like Alan Greenspan to avoid being hit on in Italy). I loved my life.

Now that I've set the scene, you can imagine my dismay when I learned that while I was busy blowing my savings on duty free wine and "unbelievable deals" at Gucci, my Managing Director and our new bosses had come to an impasse of sorts. As I was informed of the outcome, I prayed that I was having jet lag-induced nightmare: We were all laid off. The group lay off served as the end of a great epic; we would always have Paris or Jersey City, as it were.

I have to admit I had been very cavalier when it came to my perpetually-laid-off friends. While I would sympathize, I secretly thought they were lazy. I wasn't overly concerned with finding a new job because I assumed that as soon as I sent out my stellar resume, a bidding war would ensue. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.

Seventy-five recruiters later, I was still unemployed. Sure, there were jobs that I could do with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back, but those firms felt that I was "overqualified." Apparently, they feared I would leave for something better in a few months. However, I am confident that if that dream job did come along, the Columbia and Wharton alumni who had been laid off for over a year would snatch it up.

The job boards are a joke. They are basically classifieds for recruiters. It's ironic that the status of the position I applied for online becomes "on hold" only after I've trekked to some midtown recruiting office in the freezing cold. Oh sure, they promise to contact you as soon as they have something else. Yeah, right. Recruiters make you hunt them down like a common stalker. If you don't call them, they won't call you. I'm sorry, but don't they work on commission?

Your job, your money and even your sanity are completely taken for granted until they are no longer a given. There is also a limit to how much daytime television you can watch before your brain turns to mush. When socializing with my employed friends (what few remained), I found myself talking about what Regis and Kelly had said that day as if they were my colleagues. I also started becoming increasingly jealous of Norm on Cheers. He not only had a place to go daily where everybody knew his name - they were also glad he came.

When a recruiter called me (shocking, I know) during the week of my last unemployment check to gage my interest in a temp job, I was only too happy to accept. I soon realized that my new position's duties required about 30 percent of my former experience. I was completely overqualified. Alas, fate (and the fact that they had been through four temps in as many weeks) brought this company and I together and I must say there hasn't been a more perfect coupling since peanut butter started working with jelly. I am thrilled to have some place to be everyday where my input is valued and they are simply happy that I keep showing up.

While I am very relieved to be receiving a paycheck again, I know it is not forever. I am still searching for a long-term commitment with dental. That having been said, my temp gig is definitely a reprieve from watching the gang at Cheers while I anxiously wait for a phone call or e-mail that may or may not come. I am also happy to report that I had no idea my "good friend" Kelly Ripa had given birth to her third child until I read an article about it a week later. - Nicole C. Campbell