The Life of a Temp

Well, I haven't seriously posted since September, when everything at my job was new and fancy and exciting.  I put on business casual and makeup, read a book on the metro with my iPod blaring, grabbed an organic chai latte from the fabulous french cafe across the street from my office, then cheerfully greeted the security guard downstairs before proceeding up the elevator, through the keycard-activated glass doors to my big front desk position.  I'd work on administrative projects, send and receive mail, make copies, straighten up the lobby and conference rooms, order lunch for big meetings, answer and direct phone calls and greet visitors.

I loved this job.  Compared to every retail-hour customer service-oriented exhausting stressful position I had stalwartly plodded through before for minimum payout, this seemed like a dream come true.  I was getting paid every week and making more than enough to cover my obligations and splurge on new work clothes, coffees and lunch out when I felt like it.  I was also dating, and experiencing the DC nightlife of dinners, parties and hockey games with a swell fella who around Christmastime decided to up and move to Nevada to work in the National Parks and follow his dream... which did not include me.

Oh well, we move on.  Work settled into a routine, broken up by fun things like company holiday parties and lunches with new coworkers.  I began to finally feel comfortable in the job and with my coworkers, and even had one conversation with THE BOSS that lasted more than 8 seconds.  And then, without warning, that ever-fickle bitch Fate decided to step in and make some changes in my life.

She promised riches beyond the scope of my current pay stub, the fulfillment of my lifelong dream to have a full-time position at a job I knew nothing about and had no independent interest in, and best of all, a shorter commute with free parking!  Also, I was hinted at that if I didn't give up my current position for this 'promotion', I would most likely be let go in the near future.  So of course, I cheerfully skipped off to my secret job interview at the management office in quaint downtown Fairfax.

I got the promotion, and with only a modicum of trepidation I said a fond farewell to my coworkers, celebrated my newfound success with friends and family, and even spent four days training my bright and spunky young replacement, who I thought was much more in the field of "cute and energetic receptionist" than the much more serious and accomplished "Administrative Assistant" I was attempting to become.  Goodbye, D.C.  Goodbye, not-my-boyfriend dude.  Goodbye, metro parking and $76/week fees!

Hello, new job.  I liked my coworkers right away, but the work itself was a bit overwhelming as apparently they expected me to already know everything there is to know about real estate.  After all, I had answered phones at a place where they work on such things, so of course osmosis would have taught me anything I could possibly need to know, right?

After the first week of bumbling frustrating mistakes, I wound up crying in the bathroom one Thursday afternoon.  Turns out my two days' worth of hard work (based on three days' worth of intensive training) was utterly and completely unusable and had to be redone correctly.  I had been poorly trained, misunderstood directions, and tried to apply a lesson from a specific case to the broader scheme of things.  In short, I was totally confused and I effed up the paperwork.  That night I berated myself with cheeseburgers and booze, and for the next week and a half I mightily struggled to achieve perfection by going above and beyond the call of duty and researching the rules on such paperwork to create... *drumroll please*... A SPREADSHEET!

This was no ordinary spreadsheet.  It was the sort of spreadsheet that takes lots of skimming through very large and disorganized files and leases to complete, and which is of not much use to anyone except the person completing the tenant invoices I had just completely bumbled (meaning, me) and would only be useful in cutting down on such mistakes in the future.  I was prepared to really wow them the next time these invoices were due to the tenants by the speed an accuracy with which I completed, sent and filed those suckers!

Alas, it was not to be.  Only three weeks into the position I was kindly informed that "Well you probably saw this coming but, it's just not working out."  Apparently I wasn't happy/bubbly/social enough and didn't spend enough time chattering on the phone with tenants and vendors while I was slaving away over the hot keyboard making SPREADSHEETS.  I also forgot to say "Hello" to one of the Engineers some time when he came into the office and I was working---though regretfully I don't remember this horrifying incident---and after three weeks they figured they knew my capabilities well enough to decide that they really didn't have time to bother teaching me anything after all and that they'd rather replace me with somebody who already knows everything there is to know about Real Estate, which apparently includes lots of phone calls to tenants and vendors and cheerful "Good Morning!"s to the Engineers and a lot less actual work.  Go figure.

So, now my choice comes down to jumping back into the Temp system with another low-interest job where I can work in an office all day and then be dropped on the slightest whim when they decide they don't feel like paying me any more.  Or, I can get my head in gear, figure out what it is I'd actually like to be doing, and get some applications in ASAP - because, sadly, I've only got maybe a week or two left here before they kick me to the curb and I'm back to being an almost-25-year-old unemployed bum who still lives with my parents.

More on the job search to follow, but I actually still have to get some "Work" done, believe it or not!  It's like they almost value my assistance or something!  Crazy...

I Agree With This Song

Kate Nash - "The Nicest Thing"

All I know is that you're so nice
You're the nicest thing I've seen
I wish that we could give it a go
See if we could be something

I wish I was your favourite girl
I wish you thought I was the reason
You are in the world

I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile
I wish the way that I dressed
Was your favourite kind of style

I wish you couldn't figure me out
But you always wanna know what I was about
I wish you'd hold my hand when I was upset
I wish you'd never forget
The look on my face when we first met

I wish you had a favourite beauty spot
That you loved secretly
'Cause it was on a hidden bit
That nobody else could see


Basically, I wish that you loved me
I wish that you needed me
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars,
Actually I meant three

I wish that without me your heart would break
Yeah, I wish that without me
You'd be spending the rest of your nights awake

I wish that without me you couldn't eat
I wish I was the last thing on your mind
Before you went to sleep

Look, all I know is that
You're the nicest thing I've ever seen
And I wish that we could see if we could be something
Yeah, I wish that we could see if we could be something

This is a great song

Started a new station on my Pandora site at work this morning, and just heard a song I liked so much I decided to post the lyrics in full for your enjoyment.

The song is called "The Quiz" by Hello Saferide, and it goes a little something like this:

You look nice alright
And I like the way you nod after everything I say
Like it actually means something to you

And I like your record collection
Townes and Jens with a hint of Rickie Lee
And you've cleaned up the bathroom, made a really nice soup
but a bit too much sci-fi in your shelf with DVD's

But there are things you need to know about me
I'm weak right now, so weak right now
I need proof before I dare to open this heart
So I've prepared a quiz for you

Would you freak out if I said I liked you?
Do you walk the line?
Is your IQ higher than your neighbours?
And is it very much higher than mine ?

Can you sleep when I grind my teeth?
Do you look away if I slob when I eat?
Will you let me be myself?
Can you at all times wear socks? Because I'm still scared of feet

And if I'd fall, would you pick me up?
If I'd fall, would you pick me up?

Do you talk in the middle of Seinfeld?
Do you read more than two books a month?
Do you get racist or sexist when you've had a few?
Is it fine if I make more money than you?

Have you slept with any people I work with?
Is there anyone you'd rather wish I'd be?
Do you still keep pictures of old girlfriends?
Are they prettier than me?

And if I'd fall, would you pick me up?
If I'd fall, would you pick me up?