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Guess who's Temp of the Month?
Yeah! That's right! ME!
I got the call at work this morning and when I called my mother to tell her, neither of us could stop laughing. See, ever since I started temping, I joked that Temp of the Month was my career goal. "I'm just in it for the teal-accented 80s Gym Bag," I'd say, referring to just one of the fabulous Temp of the Month perks -- perks I knew about because my friend and fellow directionless temping twenty-something, Annie, had held this honor before. I e-mailed her earlier with the following message:
Subj: forgot to ask
Date: 9/23/2003 1:27:20 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Jess
To: Annie
A,
As someone who's experienced the fame and glory of being Temp of the Month, would you have any words of wisdom to impart upon me? How did you handle the fame, the sudden riches of the mall gift certificate, the rapid elevation of social status? Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
Temporarily yours,
J
She replied:
Subj: RE: forgot to ask
Date: 9/23/2003 1:54:24 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Annie
To: Jess
J,
Although it was not of your decision to be thrust into the public eye as such, it is your civic duty to maintain a constant and positive image. A role model for American Youth. While the increase in pressure to uphold the standards of Temp of the Month (low quality of work, bad attitude and general hatred for anyone requiring ones attention) is from the public or an internal drive remains to be seen. As for the monetary windfall, I would suggest taking careful measure of what you need, and then spending it all in one place on something you want. The elevated social status begins to sour and completely disappears at the end of your designated month at which point you are filed away into the bowels of Temp of the Month Archives. So enjoy it while it lasts and then join our ranks as the Temp formally know as of the Month.
A
It's good to note that both of these were composed and sent while the missive authors were acting temps, demonstrating the drive, determination, and frequent e-mail checks that are necessary to successful temping.
The best part of the whole thing is that they want to type up and send out a press release. A PRESS RELEASE. I mean, okay, it's going to get buried on the back pages of our local low-circulation papers, but still! Weird! And a little embarrassing! I don't like to advertise my directionlessness (that much)! They even asked me to think about a few of the positive aspects of temping and call them back in the afternoon with the blurb.
When I called and asked for the two people I was instructed to ask for, I had the following conversation:
Chris: Hello Jessica! How are you?
Fearless Temp: Hi Chris! I'm good, thanks, how are you?
C: I'm good. So what's up?
FT: Uh...K called me before and asked me to call you?
C: She did?
FT: Yeah, she said I was Temp of the Mont?
C: She did? You're sure?
FT: I mean, I think she did.
C: Hm.
FT: (Wondering: Was this all an elaborate fantasy borne of caffeine deprivation?) Maybe I was wrong?
C: Hold on, let me talk to K.
[Incredibly long hold, during which FT is forced to listen to the inane hold infoloop and eventually becomes convinced she is crazy. And also, not only is she crazy, but she is pathetically crazy, inventing an exciting identity that is not very exciting at all -- if one were to get delusional, after all, why would one go for a lame, powerless title like that one instead of something like being George Clooney's fiancee?]
C: You're right! Congratulations.
FT: Ha! Told you! I mean, thanks!
I can't believe they selected me even though the two times they called my office and asked for my supervisor, I inadvertently disconnected them instead of putting them into the supervisor's voicemail. They are forgiving souls. Forgiving souls who make loads of money off of my hard work, that is. Which brings me to my Commuting Revelation O' The Day: Temping isn't so different from being a prostitute, with the temp agency as your pimp. Don't you think? I mean, think of the conversations:
Temporary Agency/Pimp (Timp): I've got a potential opportunity for you.
Ho/Temp (Homp): Yeah? What kind of money are we talking?
T: $12 an hour. $15 if you're into something kinky, like database creation.
H: Hmm. I could do Access for an extra $3 an hour. But no Powerpoint.
T: Understood. I'll make the call.
It's way past my bedtime.
Yeah! That's right! ME!
I got the call at work this morning and when I called my mother to tell her, neither of us could stop laughing. See, ever since I started temping, I joked that Temp of the Month was my career goal. "I'm just in it for the teal-accented 80s Gym Bag," I'd say, referring to just one of the fabulous Temp of the Month perks -- perks I knew about because my friend and fellow directionless temping twenty-something, Annie, had held this honor before. I e-mailed her earlier with the following message:
Subj: forgot to ask
Date: 9/23/2003 1:27:20 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Jess
To: Annie
A,
As someone who's experienced the fame and glory of being Temp of the Month, would you have any words of wisdom to impart upon me? How did you handle the fame, the sudden riches of the mall gift certificate, the rapid elevation of social status? Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
Temporarily yours,
J
She replied:
Subj: RE: forgot to ask
Date: 9/23/2003 1:54:24 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Annie
To: Jess
J,
Although it was not of your decision to be thrust into the public eye as such, it is your civic duty to maintain a constant and positive image. A role model for American Youth. While the increase in pressure to uphold the standards of Temp of the Month (low quality of work, bad attitude and general hatred for anyone requiring ones attention) is from the public or an internal drive remains to be seen. As for the monetary windfall, I would suggest taking careful measure of what you need, and then spending it all in one place on something you want. The elevated social status begins to sour and completely disappears at the end of your designated month at which point you are filed away into the bowels of Temp of the Month Archives. So enjoy it while it lasts and then join our ranks as the Temp formally know as of the Month.
A
It's good to note that both of these were composed and sent while the missive authors were acting temps, demonstrating the drive, determination, and frequent e-mail checks that are necessary to successful temping.
The best part of the whole thing is that they want to type up and send out a press release. A PRESS RELEASE. I mean, okay, it's going to get buried on the back pages of our local low-circulation papers, but still! Weird! And a little embarrassing! I don't like to advertise my directionlessness (that much)! They even asked me to think about a few of the positive aspects of temping and call them back in the afternoon with the blurb.
When I called and asked for the two people I was instructed to ask for, I had the following conversation:
Chris: Hello Jessica! How are you?
Fearless Temp: Hi Chris! I'm good, thanks, how are you?
C: I'm good. So what's up?
FT: Uh...K called me before and asked me to call you?
C: She did?
FT: Yeah, she said I was Temp of the Mont?
C: She did? You're sure?
FT: I mean, I think she did.
C: Hm.
FT: (Wondering: Was this all an elaborate fantasy borne of caffeine deprivation?) Maybe I was wrong?
C: Hold on, let me talk to K.
[Incredibly long hold, during which FT is forced to listen to the inane hold infoloop and eventually becomes convinced she is crazy. And also, not only is she crazy, but she is pathetically crazy, inventing an exciting identity that is not very exciting at all -- if one were to get delusional, after all, why would one go for a lame, powerless title like that one instead of something like being George Clooney's fiancee?]
C: You're right! Congratulations.
FT: Ha! Told you! I mean, thanks!
I can't believe they selected me even though the two times they called my office and asked for my supervisor, I inadvertently disconnected them instead of putting them into the supervisor's voicemail. They are forgiving souls. Forgiving souls who make loads of money off of my hard work, that is. Which brings me to my Commuting Revelation O' The Day: Temping isn't so different from being a prostitute, with the temp agency as your pimp. Don't you think? I mean, think of the conversations:
Temporary Agency/Pimp (Timp): I've got a potential opportunity for you.
Ho/Temp (Homp): Yeah? What kind of money are we talking?
T: $12 an hour. $15 if you're into something kinky, like database creation.
H: Hmm. I could do Access for an extra $3 an hour. But no Powerpoint.
T: Understood. I'll make the call.
It's way past my bedtime.
