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It is my tradition that on my first day of a new temp assignment I:
1. Dress niceley, and
2. Arrive on time.
Today was my first day of a new temp assignment. I arrived fifteen minutes late, wearing blue tights with my red and black outfit. AWESOME.
(The best part was how I did not realize the tights thing until I'd been walking around all morning in them - bought black ones on my lunch break, but the Damage Was Done.)
Anyway. These are but two small symptoms of a larger problem - Temp Fatigue. I have, quite simply, lost that clerical feeling. Oh, back in my early days, I used to spend the night before my assignment on MapQuest, finding the most efficient route. I would take notes while on the phone with my temp agency and read these notes over later, several times, worrying (a lot!) about whether they would like me, and if I'd do a good job.
Now I just scribble, "D., 8:30, 350 X Road" and ask for directions from my parents while I'm drying my hair upside down, usually at the exact moment I should be leaving the house if I want to arrive on time.
What's a gal to do? Get an actual job, I suppose. Pshaw!
Over the weekend I saw several movies, including Million Dollar Baby, Napoleon Dynamite, and Racing Stripes. I will, of course, address the last of these, and will refrain from spoiler cutting because, well - is anyone reading this seriously on pins and needles waiting to see this?
Just in case someone is, I won't reveal Important Plot Points. What I will reveal is this:
PACEY WAS IN THE MOVIE! JOSHUA JACKSON! HE WAS A HORSE! I WAS SO EXCITED I ALMOST SQUEALED IN THE THEATER!
It was weird because it was just so out of place - there was this big horse on screen spouting bad dialogue and yet - and yet it was somehow familiar. And then I realized who it was! I was thisclose to shouting out, "Pacey!" and slapping the person beside me out of excitement, but then I realized that I was sandwiched in between a complete stranger and my eight-year-old-cousin Jackie, neither of whom I thought would fully appreciate the awesomeness of an Unexpected Pacey Encounter. I watched the end credits to be sure and realized that not only was he in it, so was Michael Rosenbaum! I think he was the mean older horse. In other words: I think Lex Luthor was Pacey Witter's Dad.
It is so late. I had all these things I meant to discuss! The awesomeness of Napoleon Dynamite! My lame new temp job! My other possible lame temp job!
But I must go to bed, where I am hoping to have a peaceful night's sleep. Unlike last night, when sleep was interrupted four times by the cutest kitten ever, Dusty, whose new thing is sitting next to my head and swatting at my nose until I wake up and then - now this is the best part - running away and hiding from me, often under my bed (he does have quite an edge, being so lithe and limber, while I am a lumbering oaf under the best of circumstances, let alone in the middle of the night without my glasses on), until I have to give up and go back to sleep, in the hopes he'll go away, only to wake up an hour later to his little face staring curiously at mine, his paw poised to smack me on the nose again.
I'm going to try to sneak upstairs without him noticing so that he won't follow me into my room. Wish me luck!
1. Dress niceley, and
2. Arrive on time.
Today was my first day of a new temp assignment. I arrived fifteen minutes late, wearing blue tights with my red and black outfit. AWESOME.
(The best part was how I did not realize the tights thing until I'd been walking around all morning in them - bought black ones on my lunch break, but the Damage Was Done.)
Anyway. These are but two small symptoms of a larger problem - Temp Fatigue. I have, quite simply, lost that clerical feeling. Oh, back in my early days, I used to spend the night before my assignment on MapQuest, finding the most efficient route. I would take notes while on the phone with my temp agency and read these notes over later, several times, worrying (a lot!) about whether they would like me, and if I'd do a good job.
Now I just scribble, "D., 8:30, 350 X Road" and ask for directions from my parents while I'm drying my hair upside down, usually at the exact moment I should be leaving the house if I want to arrive on time.
What's a gal to do? Get an actual job, I suppose. Pshaw!
Over the weekend I saw several movies, including Million Dollar Baby, Napoleon Dynamite, and Racing Stripes. I will, of course, address the last of these, and will refrain from spoiler cutting because, well - is anyone reading this seriously on pins and needles waiting to see this?
Just in case someone is, I won't reveal Important Plot Points. What I will reveal is this:
PACEY WAS IN THE MOVIE! JOSHUA JACKSON! HE WAS A HORSE! I WAS SO EXCITED I ALMOST SQUEALED IN THE THEATER!
It was weird because it was just so out of place - there was this big horse on screen spouting bad dialogue and yet - and yet it was somehow familiar. And then I realized who it was! I was thisclose to shouting out, "Pacey!" and slapping the person beside me out of excitement, but then I realized that I was sandwiched in between a complete stranger and my eight-year-old-cousin Jackie, neither of whom I thought would fully appreciate the awesomeness of an Unexpected Pacey Encounter. I watched the end credits to be sure and realized that not only was he in it, so was Michael Rosenbaum! I think he was the mean older horse. In other words: I think Lex Luthor was Pacey Witter's Dad.
It is so late. I had all these things I meant to discuss! The awesomeness of Napoleon Dynamite! My lame new temp job! My other possible lame temp job!
But I must go to bed, where I am hoping to have a peaceful night's sleep. Unlike last night, when sleep was interrupted four times by the cutest kitten ever, Dusty, whose new thing is sitting next to my head and swatting at my nose until I wake up and then - now this is the best part - running away and hiding from me, often under my bed (he does have quite an edge, being so lithe and limber, while I am a lumbering oaf under the best of circumstances, let alone in the middle of the night without my glasses on), until I have to give up and go back to sleep, in the hopes he'll go away, only to wake up an hour later to his little face staring curiously at mine, his paw poised to smack me on the nose again.
I'm going to try to sneak upstairs without him noticing so that he won't follow me into my room. Wish me luck!
