Gun for hire...

I’ve been doing the temping gig for the moment when it comes to jobs. There’s a long involved story with that but it involves a chicken, a balloon, a safety pin, an ice pick and a jar of pistachios…it’s all very boring. Anyway, as with temping you’re jumping from job to job, learning lots but really not giving a rat’s arse as you’re a hired gun and like all mercenaries it’s all about the dollars.

The latest temp job? It’s temp but it will probably go to permanent. Hmmm…not sure how I feel about that. Why? I explained how insane, frustrating and disorganized the place was to my father and he said, “Well, they’re accountants. They’re not like real people.” Correct. The thing with this mob is no one seems to know what is going on at any time. They hand me work to do but don’t show me how to use the unfamiliar database and when I ask how to use it they say they’re not sure as it’s ‘only new’. I asked how long had it been in place? Three years was the response. Riiight…so I wander on into the database, bang in data and assume if the entire system doesn’t crash it’s probably okay.

Hmmm…they also don’t speak. No one talks. I find that odd – or if they do they talk in whispers and usually in the ladies bathroom. I heard whispering in the end stall of the ladies loos and like any woman worth my salt I stuck my head under the divide – no they couldn’t see me – and I spotted three pairs of feet all in the one stall. Menage sex or gossip?

So, I’m basically putting my time sheets in so I get paid and doing what I can with the limitations that I have. No one checks anything I’ve done and I reckon that’s due to the fact that no one knows what is the right thing to do. To me, it’s an office of people hiding out from real life. Will I stay if I get offered a permanent position? Hmmm…let’s just say I’m assessing my options.

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
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