True Life: I'm a Temp
In the pursuit of attaining a large sum of money by the end of this summer, I've turned to an unemployed college student/bum's last resort-- temping.
Temping has a long, rich history. It mostly consists of people working in boring office environments avoiding performing menial tasks in order to save time for more important duties such as looking stuff up on ebay and chatting about what their dentist said to them the prior weekend. These menial tasks that are avoided at all costs consist of activities such as photocopying, faxing, data entry, etc. In many occurances there is so much "shit piled up" (and this is actual office terminology being applied here) that they must recruit the help of a temporary worker. In other words, temps are hired to do "the bitch work", which in turn makes her "everyone's bitch" (This is more professional jargon).
For the past week and a half I've been hired to work at a financial office which deals with mortgages and loans and the like. My temp agency called and explained it would mostly be data entry, which according to them, is my "area of expertise". I find that to be horribly depressing. In actuality, my tasks for the day consist of either photocopying or data entry. From 8:30 am to 5 pm, my schedule goes a little something like this:
Photocopying day
1. Fetch large crate with imitation wood-paneling print from bitchy co-worker. Pretend to be nice. and awake.
2. Sit at large table in front of office which makes you look like the receptionist which means you must deal with the food delivery people who ask you where stacy or tom sits because their take-out is here to which you reply "I'm not the receptionist ask that lady over there". Repeat several times throughout the day.
3. Pull out folder from large imitation wood-paneling crate and gather necessary papers.
4. Proceed to photocopy necessary papers, usually involving 150+ sheets.
5. Sit and wait for 20 year old copier to do it's thing.
6. Often times throughout the day a co-worker will come up to you and ask if they can "sneak in" a quick copy while you are in the middle of yours. You will hear the term "sneak in" so frequently you will want to stab the next person to utter the phrase. You stare back at the co-worker blankly and reply monotonously, "When I'm done."
7. Sometimes if you are exceptionally lucky the copy machine will jam or will require a paper or toner refill. This will give you an excuse to walk around the office like you actually have something important to do and also offers the opportunity to eavesdrop on conversations.
8. Repeat steps 1, 3, 4, and 5 for 8 hours.
Data-Entry day
1. Log onto computer. Sign on AIM as quickly as possible.
2. Gather large stack of papers, usually equaling around 2 ft. high.
3. Begin with one packet.
3. Enter packet identification number into computer system and locate necessary information. Record this date on top of paper.
4. Make small talk with co-worker sitting in cubicle next to you to fulfill need for human contact and social interaction. Ask them how long they have worked here and if they like it. Laugh in their face when they say they "don't mind it"
5. Locate HRC, IHE or some other number from said system. Also record on top of paper.
6. Continue this process until large stack of papers is finished.
7. Mosey on over to your best friend the copy machine.
8. Unstaple one packet and copy. Re-staple original and staple new copy. Form two stacks.
9. Repeat again and again until your eyes glaze over and you eventually forget how to gain focus which makes you happy because now you are incapable of doing any more work.
A lot of the people at office come off as major assholes and strut around like they own the place. I see them scurrying around clutching some mortgage folder from one cubicle to the next and I make a mental note to never become one of them. Sometimes they run across the office as if the information that is in that very folder they are holding is so important someone will die if they do not receive it in the next 5 seconds. Ok yea, like anything this office does could ever be that vital.
Another thing about the people at this particular office is that they have got to be the worst dressers. I am so tempted to forward an e-mail to the people at "what not to wear" and tell them about what has got to be the ugliest office in america. never have i seen a higher concentration of overly-processed hair (ladies, the more highlights you put in does not make you more attractive. i cannot stress this enough.) and 4 inch platform wal-mart brand flip flops than in this place. Someone needs to alert these people that if i can see the tattoo you have on your left boob, it is NOT work-appropriate wear.
Ok, so I make it sound like hell but it's not completely unbearable. If it was really as bad as I make it out to be I would find some other line of work. I always remind myself that it could be worse. I'm allowed to wear what I want and the money is good which means every passing work day equals one day closer to Italy. Sometimes it becomes so agonizingly, brain-numbingly boring that you just want to jump up on a desk and scream and throw toner at someone just to cause a scene, but you find the strengh inside to compose yourself. Yea, I'll stand in front of the copy machine and think to myself, "surely my college education qualifies me for more than this" but you suck it up and do it anyway. After all, you're only here for a couple of weeks, but these people will most likely have to do this for the rest of their lives. And I find that to be extremely comforting.
Temping has a long, rich history. It mostly consists of people working in boring office environments avoiding performing menial tasks in order to save time for more important duties such as looking stuff up on ebay and chatting about what their dentist said to them the prior weekend. These menial tasks that are avoided at all costs consist of activities such as photocopying, faxing, data entry, etc. In many occurances there is so much "shit piled up" (and this is actual office terminology being applied here) that they must recruit the help of a temporary worker. In other words, temps are hired to do "the bitch work", which in turn makes her "everyone's bitch" (This is more professional jargon).
For the past week and a half I've been hired to work at a financial office which deals with mortgages and loans and the like. My temp agency called and explained it would mostly be data entry, which according to them, is my "area of expertise". I find that to be horribly depressing. In actuality, my tasks for the day consist of either photocopying or data entry. From 8:30 am to 5 pm, my schedule goes a little something like this:
Photocopying day
1. Fetch large crate with imitation wood-paneling print from bitchy co-worker. Pretend to be nice. and awake.
2. Sit at large table in front of office which makes you look like the receptionist which means you must deal with the food delivery people who ask you where stacy or tom sits because their take-out is here to which you reply "I'm not the receptionist ask that lady over there". Repeat several times throughout the day.
3. Pull out folder from large imitation wood-paneling crate and gather necessary papers.
4. Proceed to photocopy necessary papers, usually involving 150+ sheets.
5. Sit and wait for 20 year old copier to do it's thing.
6. Often times throughout the day a co-worker will come up to you and ask if they can "sneak in" a quick copy while you are in the middle of yours. You will hear the term "sneak in" so frequently you will want to stab the next person to utter the phrase. You stare back at the co-worker blankly and reply monotonously, "When I'm done."
7. Sometimes if you are exceptionally lucky the copy machine will jam or will require a paper or toner refill. This will give you an excuse to walk around the office like you actually have something important to do and also offers the opportunity to eavesdrop on conversations.
8. Repeat steps 1, 3, 4, and 5 for 8 hours.
Data-Entry day
1. Log onto computer. Sign on AIM as quickly as possible.
2. Gather large stack of papers, usually equaling around 2 ft. high.
3. Begin with one packet.
3. Enter packet identification number into computer system and locate necessary information. Record this date on top of paper.
4. Make small talk with co-worker sitting in cubicle next to you to fulfill need for human contact and social interaction. Ask them how long they have worked here and if they like it. Laugh in their face when they say they "don't mind it"
5. Locate HRC, IHE or some other number from said system. Also record on top of paper.
6. Continue this process until large stack of papers is finished.
7. Mosey on over to your best friend the copy machine.
8. Unstaple one packet and copy. Re-staple original and staple new copy. Form two stacks.
9. Repeat again and again until your eyes glaze over and you eventually forget how to gain focus which makes you happy because now you are incapable of doing any more work.
A lot of the people at office come off as major assholes and strut around like they own the place. I see them scurrying around clutching some mortgage folder from one cubicle to the next and I make a mental note to never become one of them. Sometimes they run across the office as if the information that is in that very folder they are holding is so important someone will die if they do not receive it in the next 5 seconds. Ok yea, like anything this office does could ever be that vital.
Another thing about the people at this particular office is that they have got to be the worst dressers. I am so tempted to forward an e-mail to the people at "what not to wear" and tell them about what has got to be the ugliest office in america. never have i seen a higher concentration of overly-processed hair (ladies, the more highlights you put in does not make you more attractive. i cannot stress this enough.) and 4 inch platform wal-mart brand flip flops than in this place. Someone needs to alert these people that if i can see the tattoo you have on your left boob, it is NOT work-appropriate wear.
Ok, so I make it sound like hell but it's not completely unbearable. If it was really as bad as I make it out to be I would find some other line of work. I always remind myself that it could be worse. I'm allowed to wear what I want and the money is good which means every passing work day equals one day closer to Italy. Sometimes it becomes so agonizingly, brain-numbingly boring that you just want to jump up on a desk and scream and throw toner at someone just to cause a scene, but you find the strengh inside to compose yourself. Yea, I'll stand in front of the copy machine and think to myself, "surely my college education qualifies me for more than this" but you suck it up and do it anyway. After all, you're only here for a couple of weeks, but these people will most likely have to do this for the rest of their lives. And I find that to be extremely comforting.