no more

my temp agency called yesterday afternoon. this job ends today. smeller hasn't mentioned it to me and i think she knows, but i'm not sure.

next week, if the temp agency doesn't call with another job, i'm working with cowboy.

good morning

working in an office sucks. you sit in a cubicle with your back to a window (if you have a window) and go through the same mundane tasks every day. you look forward to your lunch hour, which you usually spend at your desk, eating and typing and working, even though you're not paid for that hour, but you feel like you're wasting time if you actually take time off for lunch. you think about going outside for a walk, about getting some fresh air, but that pile of invoices won't wait, so the idea of seeing the sun in the early afternoon fades to a far off dream meant only for weekends. slowly you realize that your life continues in one unending, sludgy routine. to fight it, you decorate your space with as many photos and drawings and dilbert comics as you can to remind yourself that you're unique and your own person. you try to convince yourself that this beige office doesn't define you.

and then the day comes when you realize that it didn't work.

- i came in today and picked up my water bottle and headed to the kitchen, and in that time passed four  different people from four different departments, and when i greeted them, they all responded the same way:

'morning. how're you doin?'
'i'm here.'

note to anyone: if i ever genuinely respond to a question like that, please throw me down a long flight of stairs.

new day

i stayed home yesterday and worked for the company i'm not legally allowed to talk about and created a new invoice design for cowboy's company.

but now i'm back at the temp job and my soul is weeping.

smeller keeps complaining about anything - it's too cold, too warm, she's tired, too wired, hungry, full, or something to do with the broken stapler.

on the other end of the spectrum, i received an email this morning inviting me to join the board of the local film society. it's all kinds of strange and surprising, but something that also seems pretty darn cool.

another day in the office

lots happening around here:

west nile returned to work this morning, apparently not stricken down with a deadly disease, but with no word on why she didn't come in yesterday.

someone informed me this morning that one of the vice presidents will not be coming back - and it wasn't his decision. overnight, they removed his name and all identifiers from his office.

smeller has a headache and doesn't know if her smeller is broken from a cold or allergies.

the other temp can't wait to go to the fair this weekend, but has to make sure she cleans her house on saturday since she'll be gone on sunday.

the other vp came up to me and whispered, 'shit is crazy here today.'

more to come...

ADDED:
trailer park gramma compared the storm last night with 'war of the worlds' with tom cruise.

contagious

three women constantly share news reports of shootings, attacks, or anything else that qualifies as gruesome.

yesterday, i passed their cubicles when one shared the news that someone in a town about three hours away died of the west nile virus.

apparently, this morning, the same woman who shared that information didn't come in. and she didn't call. her supervisor asked the other two women if they'd heard anything and one woman responded, 'no, she didn't call or anything, but yesterday she told us about someone dying of the west nile virus, so...i didn't really think about it when she told us, but maybe that's why...'

i think it would be made a bigger deal if this woman is out today due to death or disease, but we shall see if she ever comes in or we get news of a west nile case close to home.

waiting area

my cubicle sits right outside the door of the ever elusive controller, which means i get to entertain/be entertained by people waiting to see him.

this afternoon, a woman from across the office who, when i first met her many months ago when i began this temporary assignment, informed me that she didn't want to be an accountant like her mother (she's in her sixty's).

so, the not-accountant came over to see the controller, but he had someone else in his office, so she waited for him and talked to me. she seemed extremely shaken up and it turned out that she had to take a half day to get a refill of her narcolepsy medication because her husband "couldn't get it for her and he already missed a half day even though he's a bus driver and today is the first day of school and that doesn't look too good." i also found out that the previous drug she took for her ailment was not a narcotic, like the current one (the reason for the problem), but it cost a hundred bucks a month, where this one is five.

the entire time she spoke, she slowly cleaned her iphone with a kleenex.

creeps

two creepy guys work here.

they both resemble rodents.

one has a big mole on his face.

one walks by my cubicle about six times a day, when actually, there's no reason why he would even have to be on this side of the office, and every time he passes, he slides his hand across the metal rim of the cubicle and says, 'hi laura.'

and they both keep eye contact/stare longer than any normal social people should.

the good stuff

someone made a pot of starbucks coffee in the kitchen, but no one knows which pot it is, so people keep wandering in and smelling the three pots of aramark coffee hoping their noses will tell them.

too bad smeller isn't a coffee drinker. she might be able to help.

the other temp filled her cup with a bit from every pot, hoping that somehow she would get 'the good stuff.'


i might drink some, simply to join in on the conversation of whether i think i got the lucky pot or not.

awkward moment

smeller went home and left me with nothing to do, which is fine.

a woman from across the office came over to put something on smeller's desk and she asked me how i thought the other temp was doing (an hour ago i caught a slight mistake).  well, i just happened to look up and the other temp cowered behind a cubicle when she heard this woman ask.

but the woman saw her hide and said she was just joking.

just another day among the cubicles.

the other temp

an older woman temps here as well. she was gone for a while, but returned this week.

back in may, when she was here, she always happened to eat lunch in the break room the same time i did and it used to drive me absolutely mental. first of all, i hate office chitchat, and with her, it was an entire thirty minutes of office chitchat. for example:
'you have lunch too?'
'yeah. just a sandwich.'
'i have chinese. do you like chinese?'
'sometimes.'
'i do. too much sauce, though.'
'mm.'
'i have a menu in my purse if you want to look into it.'
'thanks.'
...
'how long is your assignment here?'
'i think just until the end of the month.'
'that's good. long assignments provide some relief.'

-it was that exciting. and it went on for thirty minutes. for about two weeks. pain.

well, she's back.

and now i fear my private, quiet lunches are no more.

still lookin alive

the 'look alive' gentleman returned to my cubicle. he only stops about once every few weeks, so this is a record. he just stopped and asked how my weekend was.

i said it was fine. he asked what i did. i would tell you the entire conversation, but it was the same conversation that happens in cubicles all over the world on monday's and it's really boring. but, when i returned with the requisite 'you do anything fun?' he described in detail his entire weekend (not looking at me at all).

but then he forgot what he did on saturday. for the entire day. and he stood there. at my cubicle. leaning on my wall. mumbling to himself wondering what he did.

and then, to sum up, he stated, 'hm...well, i guess it was nothing. i don't know what i did. i had dinner. that was...yeah, i had dinner.' and then he walked away.

look alive

there's a man who passes my cubicle on a regular basis and every single time - every single time - mumbles something like, 'look alive people,' or 'wake up,' or 'keep on keepin on.' and i must say that he doesn't slow or make eye contact when he makes these comments.

today he walked past and said, 'nice sweater.' (i do happen to have on a new sweater on today)

who knows.


the most conversation i've ever had with this guy happened last friday when he came up and leaned over the wall of my cubicle and said, 'you know anyone who needs a horse trailer? real nice. a buddy of mine is selling it.'

ebert

three women in this office always talk about movies. i know this because sound hovers over the cubicles and i can hear every word.

yesterday, i heard one woman say, 'there this movie i've seen a dozen times and couldn't tell you the title, but it has steve martin and who's that lady. you know. i'm looking at her. what's her name - meryl streep. and that guy, who is that? on the commercials. alec baldwin. it's funny. i laugh every time.'

the second woman, obviously sold on the cast, asked, 'what's it about?'

and thus the film was described, 'well, the star is meryl streep. and she's divorced and her son is graduating and her ex-husband comes back in the picture and they hook up and he falls back in love with her, but she doesn't love him, but she likes the sex, so she just uses him. and she dates steve martin. it's really funny.'


(this description is better than the actual film.)

back from the action

i missed work for the first part of the week because i worked on a documentary outside of town. but now, i'm back.

i wore ripped jeans and old t-shirts and clogs and my hair under an old cap. but now, i'm back wearing a hand-me-down white top under a hand-me-down pink cardigan with hand-me-down high-wasted, tapered-ankle mom slacks.

i drove out to farms and talked to farmers about the dry weather and their old donkeys that are 'older than moses' and saw a sweet, little church built in 1819 that now has a 'new preacher who's changing things around here.' but now, i'm back in a beige cubicle.

i found lunch in old gas stations miles from town. but now, i'm back downtown with fast food chains and restaurants and vending machines all around me.

i was only a production assistant on this project, and did whatever they needed me to do. but now, i'm back as only a temp doing whatever they need me to do.

one was much for rewarding.

stuffed up

smeller went home sick.

i have nothing to do.

nope.

nothin.

knew how to quit (you)

if you want to feel out of sorts whilst sitting in a lifeless cubicle with mundane office chatter about, please read either the short story or adapted screenplay of brokeback mountain. it will successfully stick in your head and rumble in your stomach for hours to come.

i have an assignment for school to write a paper comparing the two versions and i thought, hey, why not take advantage of the loads of free time here at this temp job to get some work done? i've already read other scripts while here (the devil wears prada, big, garden state, being there, and the wizard of oz to name a few) so i didn't think too much about it.

and then i read brokeback mountain.

and now i feel strange.

and wanting.

just like ennis. and jack. and probably alma. and every other character.




craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap.

utter hell

forgive me for i have sinned. it has been years since my last post.

i'm writing from hell - aka a temp job. my lovely temp company assigned me to this post back in april for "a three-week job" and I have been here ever since. they tell me it now goes until the end of august, although they've told me it goes to the end of every month and yet it keeps extending into oblivion.

i sit. 

and wait for something to do. luckily i have my school work with me so if i have enough time i can get some things done, but mostly i just waste my brain cells on the information superhighway searching and searching for what i really want to do with my life.

the woman i work with and sit beside in our lovely cubicles continues to refer to her nose as her 'smeller.' for instance, 'my smeller hurts' means that she has a sinus infection. 'my smeller's broken' apparently means that her nose is stuffed up and she can't smell anything. it's quite poetic.

the vice president left a xerox copy of a picture of gnomes on a rooftop on my desk one morning with the words 'how many gnomes in this picture?' i counted eight, but still not sure why i even cared enough to count.  smeller stared at the picture over my shoulder for a longer than comfortable time and she finally said, 'i don't know. i don't see any. and now i'm paranoid it's some sort of rorschach test, but am afraid to ask. 

i suppose i shall now return to putting invoices in order and highlighting them on a sheet when they're complete - a strangely and surprisingly satisfying task.

it's only temporary

over the years i've had many survival jobs and the majority of those have been as an office temp. but that's a misnomer. none of my temp jobs have actually been temporary. my first in nyc lasted a year and a half (until i quit to be a nanny), my second took two months (until i moved to north carolina), and the third charming time as a temp lasted for another year and a half (until i moved to california). so actually to even consider temping makes me a bit anxious because i don't want to subconsciously give up my life to the horrible world of 9-5.

i really don't want to work in an office, in a stupid rolling chair, at a computer where the keys stick, and drink burnt coffee while talking about some television show. that sedentary tgif 'live for the weekend' 'let's get chinese for lunch' life depresses me.

and it makes me fat.

but, on the other hand, because of my inexplicable skills in the areas of accounting and business, i make much more money and sometimes it just makes a person feel better to wake up in the mornings with something to do.

it's a toss up.