...I had TEMP WORK YESTERDAY!!
Yes, for the first time in months, I had work. I'd forgotten the rush that happens when my Pimp calls me saying I'm gonna make $12/hour. The feeling of purpose as I shave for only the second time all year. It's like the first day of Spring. A moment when everything is possible. I feel like Mary Tyler Moore (don't forget, I'm old).
As I unwrinkle my only pair of clean pants, I think about how today I could impress a big-time Hollywood executive. I could wow them with my hard work, intellect and determination. Before you know it, I'll have a full-time job, benefits and be well on my way to achieving entertainment industry success.
And then, the data entry begins and the dream dies.
I'd forgotten the down side of Temping. I'd been out of the game too long and romanticized it. I'd forgotten that employers view Temps not as people with college degrees, work experience and intellectual fire power but simply as Grade-C meat. We are place holders. We are there to do the busy work the normal assistant has been putting off for months. We are your data-entry jockeys. Your filers. Your errand runners.
I suppose the thing that bothers me most about Temping isn't the work, but the surprise and praise the employer heaps upon you when you complete the most simple tasks.
While key-padding away yesterday, I noticed the figures didn't add up. I won't get into the tedious details, but I brought it to the attention to my supervisor. She looked up at me, smiled and said, "GREAT JOB CATCHING THAT!" Reflexively (meaning #4) I responded, "I took Calculus. So adding up to $930.11 was no big deal."
And that's what life is like as a Temp. Everyone is surprised you're not some knuckle-scraping, drooling fool whose most articulate sentence is "Me talk pretty one day" (and not in reference to David Sedaris).
I can't wait to go back.