You Can Always Walk Away

Forgive my long absence, dear reader.

I have been under tight computer scrutiny at my current assignment and haven't gotten much of a chance to post. Obviously, I don't seem to care enough about that scrutiny anymore, because here I am.

I am currently temping in a department where I worked before, long ago. I know these people well. I can walk these rows of cubicles in my sleep. I worked here as a temp for two years, and I'm back for more, apparently. I was asked to return by my boss, who we'll call Mr. Scrubb. Scrubb is a giant, lumbering Mac master who is the lord of all spacetime in his domain.

He is a rad boss. His views on politics and humanity are appalling, but the dude is wonderfully hands-off. For the first time in years, I am sort of on my own schedule. Getting in exactly to the minute on time is not a big deal, and I can take however long I need for lunch. And I do, my friend, I truly do. He has told me that he doesn't mind if I surf the web or whatever I need to do, as long as the work gets done. He also fully understands that I am a human with a real life who doesn't want to temp for a living, and is very flexible about letting me go to auditions and stuff. Sweet.

Yesterday, Scrubb and I were talking about a co-worker's talent for making chocolate chip cookies. We both agreed they were some of the best homemade chocolate chip cookies ever. Scrubb says he won't use the co-worker's recipe, however, "as a matter of principle." You see, the recipe is reportedly Hilary Clinton's. "Of all of the women that could possibly become president first, why does it have to be HER?" he moaned. Man, those conservatives hate them some Hilary Clinton.

I am also now not answering phones for anyone in this position. This means I can wear headphones and listen to music all day if I so choose. And I do choose, I truly do. I get to work with graphics and Adobe CS3 and all the fun that goes with that. Unfortunately, what I am doing could only politely be classified as creative drudgery. My job is to digitally archive hundreds of thousands, possibly millions, of old non-digital artwork to be added to the company's database. This involves lots of inventorying of closets and warehouses full of hand-drawn drawings, making charts and tallies, a hell of a lot of scanning, and a soul-crushing supply of data entry. There is enough work here for several people for I'm guessing at least 10 years. It's nuts.

I sort of hit some kind of data entry mental wall today, and kind of lost my mind for about an hour there. I just sat staring blankly at the screen and felt that if I had to add one more keyword to the asset metadata I was going to LOSE MY SHIT and kill people. My hands started literally shaking and my breath was rapid and my chest tight. In situations like this, it is best to know that you can always walk away, even if for a bit. It can take quite a while for your co-workers to notice or care that you aren't at your desk. Why, you could be anywhere! Bathroom, copier, meeting, who knows? I recommend, instead of head-butting your screen, to go outside if you can and take a nice, long walk. If outside is not available to you, try taking some personal nap time in your car or, worst case scenario, in a bathroom stall. You can even use the old "I'm a smoker" excuse and duck out several times a day for 15 minutes at a time. I left for almost an hour and no one noticed.

Not even my husband noticed, who, through an amazing network of bizarre circumstances, happens to be working in the cubicle next to me. This would be absolute heaven, except, you know, we're at work. And we have to work. On stupid work things. But in general, it is absolutely lovely to be only a few feet away from husband. It's a sort of exercise in torture and patience and comedic, well-timed coughing.

To update, because I'm sure you're wondering, why is husband there? Well, he just got hired back on, after almost two years freelancing in his old job. They finally threw him a bone. So this means husband is legit, and that we will soon be receiving health benefits. Hooray for that. I'd say it's a mixed feeling this time, more of a once bitten, twice shy distrust of the stability of the job and the studio in general but hooray anyway!

I will return soon to flesh out the rest of the characters inhabiting my work world. I just wanted to establish that yes, I am alive, well, and temping away in continued indentured servitude, albeit in a calmer, nicer, and less annoying way.