if martha stewart ever strolls into my office to give a how-to tutorial on constructing stylish yet functional doilies using only coffee filters and used mustard packets, my suspicions will be confirmed: being a temp is about as close to being in hell as you can possibly get without SPF 873584734 and sporting a serious farmer's tan.
i signed up for this ish thinking it would be easier than a drunken sorority girl on spring break. aside from the nightmare of a commute i was informed of beforehand (blue line to orange line to 10 bus..oh MY!), i was expecting to show up, sit my pretty ass down and play on the internet for the better part of the day, occasionally filing some "important" documents or fetching some caffeinated goodness for the bossman. i could catch up on some pleasure reading (big ups to second helpings and the dirty girl's social club), experiment with new and interesting hair styles, maybe, just maybe, even answer a ringing phone or two if i was feeling particularly ambitious. it was gonna be sweet.
that fantasy bubble burst into eleventybillion pieces on the morning of may 28th when i was assigned to go through FIVE THOUSAND pages of government-subsidized health care recipients and correct each and every minuscule mistake and potentially put millions of the company's dollars in jeopardy..all after a whopping 20 seconds of training (if that's what that crapfest was intended to be..but i digress)! also, if i was caught online during company time, i would be tarred, feathered, and immediately fired for "lack of productivity." welcome to my nightmare. please, stay a while.
my boss is a thin, pasty man that i could take easily if we stepped into the ring. don't let his weak and feeble exterior fool you though; he's one crafty character. just yesterday as he was perusing the daily account quotas, he casually mentioned that it would be "really great if some of you could possibly come in on saturday" to "tie up a few loose ends" in the "billing department." ummm excuse me..bill lumbergh, i presume? it's bad enough that i am spending half of my summer in your corporate shithole. do us both a favor and don't cut into my weekends dude..or i'll cut you up realquick. i have friends in the cutlery industry..yo.
when i get home at the end of each increasingly monotonous day, after an hour of rubbing elbows (among other things too sordid to mention in this particular forum) with my fellow employment-loathing associates via mbta, i am able to keep my eyes open for about 20 minutes before i collapse into a carpal tunnel-induced slumber..only to wake up and do it all over again the next day beginning at the asscrack of dawn. good thing that i would rather repeatedly kiss a toilet seat than interact with the majority of reverians or i'd really feel like i was missing out on some kind of social life. this is one of those times when i revel in my decision to implement an idiot boycott. pretty successful so far..i'll keep y'all posted.
..woking hard or hardly working,
lex
i signed up for this ish thinking it would be easier than a drunken sorority girl on spring break. aside from the nightmare of a commute i was informed of beforehand (blue line to orange line to 10 bus..oh MY!), i was expecting to show up, sit my pretty ass down and play on the internet for the better part of the day, occasionally filing some "important" documents or fetching some caffeinated goodness for the bossman. i could catch up on some pleasure reading (big ups to second helpings and the dirty girl's social club), experiment with new and interesting hair styles, maybe, just maybe, even answer a ringing phone or two if i was feeling particularly ambitious. it was gonna be sweet.
that fantasy bubble burst into eleventybillion pieces on the morning of may 28th when i was assigned to go through FIVE THOUSAND pages of government-subsidized health care recipients and correct each and every minuscule mistake and potentially put millions of the company's dollars in jeopardy..all after a whopping 20 seconds of training (if that's what that crapfest was intended to be..but i digress)! also, if i was caught online during company time, i would be tarred, feathered, and immediately fired for "lack of productivity." welcome to my nightmare. please, stay a while.
my boss is a thin, pasty man that i could take easily if we stepped into the ring. don't let his weak and feeble exterior fool you though; he's one crafty character. just yesterday as he was perusing the daily account quotas, he casually mentioned that it would be "really great if some of you could possibly come in on saturday" to "tie up a few loose ends" in the "billing department." ummm excuse me..bill lumbergh, i presume? it's bad enough that i am spending half of my summer in your corporate shithole. do us both a favor and don't cut into my weekends dude..or i'll cut you up realquick. i have friends in the cutlery industry..yo.
when i get home at the end of each increasingly monotonous day, after an hour of rubbing elbows (among other things too sordid to mention in this particular forum) with my fellow employment-loathing associates via mbta, i am able to keep my eyes open for about 20 minutes before i collapse into a carpal tunnel-induced slumber..only to wake up and do it all over again the next day beginning at the asscrack of dawn. good thing that i would rather repeatedly kiss a toilet seat than interact with the majority of reverians or i'd really feel like i was missing out on some kind of social life. this is one of those times when i revel in my decision to implement an idiot boycott. pretty successful so far..i'll keep y'all posted.
..woking hard or hardly working,
lex