So I’m lying around on the couch this morning, drinking coffee and thinking about what I’ve got to do today. I just finished an assignment and am due to start another one tomorrow.
8:24 am, the phone rings. It’s the temp agency “Hello, we just had a call from the client saying that you were supposed to be in at 8 am today.”
“No, I thought it was starting on Thursday, that’s what I was told by A—.”
“Really? She’s off sick, so I can check her notes and call you back?”
A few minutes later…
“It’s totally not your fault,” she says, “but they’d really like you to come in today if you can.”
Crap, shit, fuck. “Well okay, fine,” I hear myself saying, ”I’ll need some time to get organized though.”
Great, it’s not even 8:30, my day has just been shot to hell. I hadn’t even figured out how I was going to spend the whole luxurious gap day before getting sucked back into tempworld. So I took my time (agreed to be there ’round noon, anyways), even stopped off to shop along the way.
When I get there, the corporate security bitches are just as I remember them. They don’t say hello, just plop the visitor badge on the counter and bark out the time (in 24 hour notation) for me to write in the log.
The woman I’m supposed to be working for is absent, but her minion is stressed out and low-key bitchy. I learn quickly that she is actually leaving the job on Friday and that I, transient, am her replacement. I further tax her martyr-like patience by requiring such things as a computer login ID and email set-up, not to mention a security pass. She asks me to call IT services, then does it herself, then passes the phone over to me.
The afternoon passes in a menial blur of variations on label making, interspersed with a slice of office birthday cake and meeting others on the floor. They all seem grimly resigned to their place in the corporate order and their welcome greetings come with comments like “Oh you’re going to LIKE IT here!” I calculate that I am earning a dollar per hour for every year of education that I’ve had.
I still don’t know what exactly I’m going to be doing or how long I’ll be there. I’m just parachuting in and have to figure it all out before making another daring escape. This new semi-perm arrangement freaks me out – what, I ‘m going to need to be responsible to something or someone in this Bore Palace? Somebody better get me drunk on a school night so I remember who I am. And that I’m only doing this for the money, and to pay for school in September. Only 6 more months!
Full day tomorrow, I can definitely wait.