What I've Learned From Temping, Part One

Money doesn't buy taste, but it does buy thousands of dollars worth of Christmas decorations and the staff to decorate your space to your specifications.

If it's a Friday and the company you're temping for is moving that day and they haven't told me their new address, it is probably your last day. This is not to be taken personally, as they were looking for someone with a different set of over-qualifications than yours.

At McCormick Place it is not possible to spend less than $2.50 for a bottle of water but one can spend $18 on a single slice of pizza with an iceberg lettuce salad.

At a recent gig the bathroom stall at the end of the row had a huge frosted glass window where I could see sunlight. I'm a fan of mundane things slightly altered: a gray bathroom stall with a window in it, quarters with state-specific designs on the back, the festive atmosphere on the last day of school or work before winter break. Even fire drills. The normal routine is shaken up and you see things from a slightly different angle.

There is always, always candy. Why so much candy? I've learned to bring my own snacks because sugar turns me into a sugar-crackhead surprisingly quickly.

When I do get a real job again I would really love for it to be at a non-profit organization. I have had this goal for a long time, but a short gig recently was a nice confirmation that I can thrive in settings where the mission of the organization is something I support. Removing profit from the equation is a good start; the organization exists and is funded because they do good, worthwhile work.

There is such a thing as a dog wash vending machine.

Dog Wash Vending Machine

The office at a recent temp gig was mostly quiet and gray, but occasionally I was delighted to find myself in a bizarre moment like this phone call:

"Hello, you've reached [my temp job], may I help you?"

"I'm calling about the dog wash vending machine."

Dog. Wash. Vending. Machine.

Apparently this is a real thing and one of them is broken, thus the phone call. There was a language barrier between the caller and I, so there are many questions that remain unanswered. Questions like: "What?" And, "Can you please describe the situation in much, much more detail?"

What I Should Have Said Was Something

Today I was talking with someone at my temp job about how we should arrange things for the movers who would be arriving soon.

He said: Sometimes you just have to pretend that all these people are not as smart as you are.

What I should have said: Do you find that a satisfying way to live?

What I did say was nothing. It's like the inverse of a really excellent Mike Birbiglia story after which he named the album: What I Should Have Said Was Nothing.

Please To Fax It! (Sometimes I am dumb.)

I worked as a receptionist before finishing college. Then I had a professional job for a while before the economy went to hell. So I have been on both sides of the admin staff vs. staff-who-do-the-actual-work-of-the-enterprise divide. I loved having my mind engaged and stretched at work. I loved that my intuition and intelligence were essential while working in my field. Many times I was under tremendous pressure and was frustrated by the blank stares, hostility and indifference I got from the reception desk. I always give people the benefit of the doubt to start, and I always try to be respectful to people who have shitty service jobs. But there were times where it really mattered if I got a certain fax and the person whose job it was to care about the fax machine thought it was not her problem. I wasn't like that when I was a receptionist, but it did make me re-think how I could have approached such a job. I could read the manual to the fax machine. I could solve problems.

(Un)luckily I now have the opportunity to revisit this type of work, and I was actually excited to approach it with this can-do attitude. The people I work for tell me almost nothing, so there is plenty of room for self-education. My first week there someone called and said she was getting an error message when trying to send us a fax so I volunteered to investigate and call her back. I looked up the manual online and followed all the instructions to reset a crashed machine. Everything seemed to be working so I asked my sweetie to send a test fax. I let him know it was right behind me so I would be the only one to see what he wrote. It's fine to be goofy, it's just between us! I also sent a test fax from one of those free online services. When my message didn't go through I returned to google, and noticed that most fax machines have a dial pad on them like a telephone.

Yes, after twenty minutes of research I learned that the fax machine was not a fax machine -- it was a printer. I eventually figured out that the office is set up so that all faxes are emailed to all four members of the company in PDF form. I figured this out after the entire office received this:

Adventures in Temping

Like so many others who once had bright futures, I am currently temping. And in no position to be grumpy about whatever employment I can get. I recently began a longer term* receptionist gig. On my third day I imagined what I would write on my resume for this illustrious moment in my career.

Temp Job, Receptionist whatever - present

Answered phone up to seven times daily; strengthened sitting-in-a-room skills including drinking water; surfing internet; sitting; breathing; looking at chairs; looking at pens. Additionally, strengthened looking-on-the-internet-at-peers-who-are-more-successful-than-me skills. Some experience practicing juggling using foam apple-shaped stress ball. Successful daily use of elevator.

*Your guess is as good as mine, no one tells me much