Used to be that an independent contractor set rates by one or two measures: What will the market bear? What is my time worth?

That first yardstick has pretty much disintegrated. Anyone who knows what the market will bear should not be wasting her time reading this blog. Get out and make money, genius.

So, what is one’s time worth? Ah, there’s the thing to ponder. In my world, that of freelance writing, it’s a buyer’s market. Awash with former journalists, the field of wordsmiths-for-hire is very, very crowded.

Most of us started out valuing our time based on what we were paid in (usually) union newsrooms. Which is sort of like Pluto asking for the same treatment it got back when it was considered an actual planet.

I’ve tried a few approaches, including the name-your-price model that lets a client set the rate. This is workable right up until one is hired by a friend (who feels guilty, overpays, then never hires you again) or a true cheapskate. You know where that one goes.

So, here’s a new idea. In this time of economic murkiness, I notice that everyone is more forthcoming about costs:

–”My student loan is $250 a month!!”
–”The dentist said it’ll cost $1,400!”
–”I paid $4.80 to park downtown!”

There’s a weary sense of I-share-your-pain out there. Everyone is quoting numbers and no one is happy.

So, here’s my idea. I call it “task-based wages.” In this model a contract worker (freelancer, babysitter, yard worker, whatever) quotes a price that is directly linked to a real need.

So instead of $25 an hour, I tell my client that the job cost is “gym membership” or $40. I feel the budget pressure lighten and the client sees the reasonableness of the charge. Even if $40 is more than they wanted to spend, they can take comfort in the fact that there will be one less out-of-shape, overweight person in America. (This assumes a lot of things; just roll with me here.)

Instead of my old system of quoting an hourly and a flat rate for a large editing gig, I can now offer the “two cups of coffee every day for a week” or the “new tires” rate.

We’re all in this together, right?

I start most days pecking away at my keyboard while my husband watches 3 different news shows, toggling back and forth between them. Did I mention that the TV is about six feet away from my desk?

Weirdly, it works for both of us. I make surprised-sounding noises when he comments on the latest news disaster; he lowers the volume even before I finish the sentence, “Honey, can I read this to you?”

This morning, again, the news was all about economic indicators. The ones that prove what we already know: We’re hosed. Stimulus money is getting flushed while unemployment rises and costs for goods, services, health care and housing chew away at everyone’s puny savings and last nerve.

I guess some folks, somewhere, are surprised by the proof offered by these economic measuring sticks. I’m not. My trusty indicators have been spot-on for months.

The Classified Index: I’m an inveterate reader of classified ads. (I’ve had to move that habit online as newspaper print ads have dwindled, alas.) When the usual Christmas-season temporary-help ads didn’t spring up last fall, I knew we were screwed.

Ditto when more ads started appearing for collections work. You know it’s bad when companies that repossess cars from delinquent owners have so much work that they need “spotters” who drive around to find the cars in question, then radio the findings to the exhausted repo guy.

The Thrift-Store Index: When women wearing $190 shoes are pushing through the sweater rack at Goodwill, it’s time to accept that 24-month CDs paying 0.4% is neither misprint nor fluke.

The Panicked Landlord Index: I have young friends in that multi-roommate stage of life who report that in the last three months, the usually interminable lease-application process is moving at warp speed. When we came to Portland a few years ago, getting an apartment was tougher than making it into an edition of Burke’s Peerage & Gentry. Now, if you show up without a visible weapon and your check clears, you’re in.

The Crowded Sample-Table Index: You can’t tell me that the growing number of people lining up three-deep for a free sample of jalapeno turkey jerky at Costco doesn’t mean something.

California’s decision to use IOUs as a way to keep the budget wheels turning is understandable, but faulty.

Based on my own experience on the receiving end, I can say this: IOUs are a great concept unless you are the U part.

A better strategy would be my Keep Moving Plan. KMP was inspired by that old urban joke that there’s just one Blauplunkt car stereo in the city of Boston: It just gets stolen and re-stolen.

Here’s how it works:

Invest heavily in goods using credit, then keep inventory idle. Right before credit-line grace period is up and interest commences, return all goods to vendor. Then re-purchase goods at much cheaper price and adjust for operating costs. Result: Invigorated marketplace, improved bottom line and heightened consumer morale.

An example:

Purchase four polished-cotton, three-quarter-sleeve shirts from Nordstrom for $288.

Start the next four days by viewing the newly bloated Visa statement online.

Return all goods.

Purchase four polished-cotton, three-quarter-sleeve shirts from Goodwill for $27.96.

Net savings (adjusting for cost of detergent and electricity needed to boil goods, twice): $258.04

Along with the measurable market benefits, there’s the enormous satisfaction at having cut costs without an embarrassing public proffering of IOUs.