When I first moved to Atlanta from Athens, I did so without having a permanent job. Yeah, real smart, right? I decided to go to a temp agency, just to tide me over until I was discovered on the street by some big Hollywood agent or offered a million-dollar contract for my first (as yet unwritten) novel.
My two-week temp job turned into a month-long job -- and then six months -- and then three years. I discovered that I hate corporate life. I'm just not cut-out for the 9-to-5 world. But, it was an interesting experience. In a way, I think it helped me grow up. It taught me about personal responsibility and about taking pride in a job well done. I learned that I was capable of acting like an adult and that I could take care of myself finacially.
I learned to be a Big Girl.
Oh! HAHAHAHA! I'm kidding. I've never learned that.
So, anyway, here are a few entries that chronicle my life in the Cubicle Jungle...
So Freakin’ Damn Early
November 2, 2000
I arrived at work 45 minutes early this morning. I did so at my boss' request, not out of some fanatical desire to prove I am loyal or dedicated. God forbid. I hate Being Early. And you know what? My boss isn't even here yet. In fact, I have been on this floor alone for the past ten minutes, meaning there is no one here to document my early arrival! I better still get credit for this.
Well, since I have a few moments (while I'm sitting here letting my hair dry because I didn't have enough time to dry it before I left the house because I had to Be Here So Damn Early), let me share with you some things I have learned while living in a cubicle jungle.
THING NUMBER ONE:
There are magical break room fairies who continually fill the coffee pots so that no one is ever without. They also stock the cabinets with an unending supply of sugar, creamer and those cool, little, red, plastic stirring thingies. (My cool, little, red, plastic stirring thingies collection is the envy of all who see it.) There is also hot chocolate and every flavor of tea you can possibly imagine. And there is no paying for this as the magical break room fairies are benevolent and kind. There is also the Great Vending Machine God that lords over one-half of the break room. He is not as generous and he requires that you sacrifice a whole sixty-five cents for a lousy, little bag of Chex Snack Mix. I don't worship him too often. Not with the coffee and tea flowing like, well, something that flows a lot and doesn't cost anything.
THING NUMBER TWO:
You should NEVER open the microwave that is located in a community-owned break room of this kind (think the lounge in your dorm room, the waiting room of a hospital). While the magical break room fairies provide us all with the before-mentioned coffee/tea/stirring thingie items, they do not clean out the microwave. As a result, the microwave, and the entire room, smells like all kinds of ass thanks to the pungent assortment of frozen dinners and leftover meals being reheated in the microwave. There is the constant lingering aroma of popcorn, marinara sauce, chicken broth, meatloaf and, well, I think it's roadkill. Also, I hate (hate, hate, hate) when people use microwaves, stop the appliance before the timer runs down, and then DON'T RESET THE TIMER CLOCK! Hello! Is it so flippin' hard to press that reset/clear button? Why in the world would you leave a microwave with 00:03 left on the display?! What kind of a sick and twisted person would do such a thing?! All of you, right now, get up and go make sure your microwave clocks are all reset and telling proper time. I'll wait...
THING NUMBER THREE:
There are magical office supply fairies who continually replenish the metal cabinets and drawers with pens, markers, staples, folders, tape, notes pads, white-out, Post-it Notes of all colors, and those cool, little paper clippy things that are fun to play with. No wonder people joke about stealing office supplies. I mean, come on, it's all right there for the taking! We're only humans for heaven's sake. Have you been to Office Max lately and seen how much a pack of diskettes cost? Heck, I'm never going into that store again! Just kidding, of course. Stealing is wrong.
THING NUMBER FOUR:
People annoy me. Okay, so I didn't just learn this here, it is something I have always known and have been forced to deal with. (Ah, the burdens I bear.) But, this particular brand of annoyance relates to my current topic. Working in a cubicle jungle where privacy is limited and voices carry above the partitions, I am constantly catching brief snatches of phone conversations, cross-partitional banter and office gossip. I find myself falling victim to the temptation to listen-in when the gossip seems good (and straining to hear when the voices drop to a whisper, gripped by the paranoia that the subject of the clandestine conversation is me). But I also find myself unable to block-out that which I don't really care to hear.
Currently, I am compiling a list of words and phrases that I find incredibly annoying. For some reason I have zeroed in on these particularly offensives words and whenever I hear them I find myself cringing and wishing I had one of those stress-reliever dolls that when you squeeze them the eyes pop out -- not to squeeze, but to throw.
Anyway, here's my list of words and phrases that I find incredibly annoying:
"Okey-dokey" -- There is no way to use this phrase and not sound like a complete imbecile.
"Giving you a heads-up" -- What are we playing softball here?
"Give me/you a buzz" -- As in, "Hey, just thought I'd give you a buzz and let you know..." This is the worst one of all. I'm not sure why it bothers me so, but, hell, when have I ever needed a reason to be annoyed? It just sounds stupid, don't you think? And when I hear it, I want to hurt someone.
Well, that's all I've learned so far. But the day has just begun so there may be more wonderful discoveries to come. By the way, did I mention that I was Here Early! But, even as early as I was, the magical break room fairies had already been in before me to ensure I had a fresh cup of coffee (complete with my little, red, plastic, stirring thingy) as soon as I walked in the door -- so Freakin' Damn Early.
The Evil Candy Plot
January 3, 2001
I swear, within this office, there is a secret plot to make me fat.
Here's something else that I am learning about life in a cubicle jungle: the breakroom is a dumping ground for all leftover pastries, cookies, cakes, chocolate-covered pretzels, lollipops, and any other food item that someone realized they had too much of and wanted to get rid of quickly. And believe me, it goes quickly. Everyone around here has some sort of inner radar that picks up the high-frequency signals emitted by these snacks. They broadcast their presence and within minutes the only thing left is a tray littered with crumbs or a tin containing a few errant sprinkles.
And this happens almost every day.
The other part of the conspiracy - and how I know it is concentrated on me (as is everything else in the world, right?) - has to do with my cube specifically. My cube is this department's own individual dumping ground. It's right in the center of the department, and it is larger than the others. (Don't ask me how I got the "good cube," because I'm really not sure. I am waiting for the day when the others realize that the temp is sitting in the only cube that has a view of the window and unlimited access to the color printer and the high-tech photo scanner and kick my ass back over to the tiny, dark, windowless cube in the corner. But for now...shhhhh...don't tell.)
Anyway, there's a big, crystal bowl that sits on a shelf in my cube and it is the goal of every single person in this department to keep it stocked with candy. What the hell is that about? Also, if there happens to be cookies left over from a meeting or cake left over from a party, then it gets placed on that shelf as well. So, at any given time of the day, I am a mere three feet away from something very bad for you. I am sitting here looking at it right now! A bowl full of candy canes and Dove chocolate squares and those little, gold-foil wrapped Rocher hazelnut chocolate thingies.
But fear not, my little friends. I am stronger than the almighty Rocher. Those things can sit there as long as they want. They can taunt and they can tease, but they won't win. They won't break me down. I'll have you know that a mini Milky Way sat in my desk drawer for over a month before a coworker finally ate it. (It's a fun game, actually, that I play with this coworker. He can't stand it that I will leave candy lying around and not eat it. I like to put a piece of candy in that drawer or, worse, just lying out so that he sees it every time he comes over to my cube. It drives him crazy! Hey, I gotta do something to entertain myself here.)
So, actually, this plot to fatten me up is backfiring. It is only increasing my resolve to stay away from this evil. It is also strengthening my resistance skills. So they can pile the junk up all the way to the top of the partition...I don't care. Bring it on!
Another up-side to this situation is that the ever-present goodies turns my cube into the social cube. Well, it would be anyway, what with me being the occupier and all. But, because of the added bonus of candy and other treats, people are always stopping by my cube to help themselves to the free loot. I enjoy being in a high-traffic area. I need as much human contact as I can possibly get. And if, in order to maintain this contact, I have to share my space with the evil that is confectioners sugar and corn syrup, then so be it.
Right now, I'm trying to prove that I'm even stronger than the super-sized Kit-Kat that is hanging out in my desk drawer. And, people, that is pretty darn strong.
The Temp Life
April 18, 2001
It is very possible that I will be unemployed again much sooner than I had anticipated. For some, this may be a cause for alarm. But for me, it simply means that I will be given the opportunity to go do something new -- whatever that something may be. (She’s so carefree, isn’t she?)
Last week, I was astounded to realize that I have been working at this "temp" job for the past six months. But it is a position that has suited me and my anti-responsibility lifestyle perfectly. The location is great, the people I work with are fun and interesting, I make enough money to live and shop, and I know that at any time during the day, I can walk out and never come back and not owe anyone anything. (Oh, yes, she knows the true meaning of dedication.)
However, in the six months that I have been coasting paycheck-to-paycheck, enjoying the wacky adventures of The Office Temp, at least once a week someone I know has asked me what was going on here and "why haven't you been made 'permanent.'" It seems that all of my friends and family are very concerned with this situation and are overly-anxious to see it become what they would deem more -- I don’t know...I guess...(shudder) stable. Stability is a big thing for people. Permanent is a big thing for people. But I have never been able to get into it myself.
See, no job is permanent, people. In fact, nothing in life is -- careers, relationships, hair color -- it can all change (and often does) on a daily basis. But that's what makes life more fun. Why do humans constantly seek permanent things -- till death do us part, have everlasting life, guaranteed to never warp, rust or stain? This insistence on permanence is a practice in futility. It's attempting to find stability in a world fraught with uncertainty and unpredictability. Instead of fretting over the "temporary-ness" of life, isn't it time we all celebrated it for what it is -- an ever-changing opportunity for adventure; an exciting journey with thrillingly unpredictable twists and turns? There is a lot to be said for following your bliss, folks. Because it sure as hell isn't going to follow you.
Well, I suppose that's enough for now. I am just trying to help you people, you know that, right? I love you all and simply want to see you happy.
Or else I am trying to legitimize my desire to never work a nine-to-five job again in a vain attempt to come across as carefree and enlightened as opposed to lazy and unmotivated.
How do you think I did?
Oh, just so you know, I am quite aware that I will need to do something to earn money. So, if you have suggestions of anything that might help me out in that area, let me know. I just want to be creative and have someone pay me for it. But only for about six months at a time. Is that too much to ask?
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