Work was scarce and I was hard up for rent money, so I decided that perhaps my best option to solve this inequity would be to try to get some temp work. So I emailed my resume to the temp agency with the highest yahoo rating, a few days later received a phone call, and went in for the interview. They just opened a creative division, my bubbly blonde counselor informed me, that might even offer something to correspond with my film background, however the work would most likely still be office work. Fine with me.
I've worked in offices before, so really, I should know what to expect. And yet for some reason, I kept imagining myself being placed in the office from "The Office" and found myself quite enamored with this idea. I, of course, with my light brown curly hair, would be "Pam" and would become insta-friends with the guy who works across the way, "Jim." This thought was most definitely the highlight. Across from "Jim" there would be this totally weird, and yet strangely endearing guy, "Dwight," and we would bond over the jokes "Jim" played on him. "Ryan," a former temp, recently hired (in my mind this plays out before season 4), would chat about why, when we're perfectly capable human beings, we found ourselves resorting to temp work.
And with "Michael Scott" as my boss, while there wouldn't be copious mounds of real work to do, perhaps I would get to utilize my creativity to organize a meeting about leadership skills (what makes "Michael Scott" a great boss), equality in the workforce (why it's good that "Stanley" "Kevin" and "Angela" aren't all the same person), or an invoice sorting barbeque with the ping pong table as a centerpiece. Although this would be a job I would take trudgingly and solely for the purpose of having some sort of income, it would be enjoyable, with its colorful and humorously awkward room-full of characters to amuse me throughout my assignment.
So you can imagine my surprise when I walk into the financial section of the advertising department at a large fashion design company and I'm escorted to a room in the back where I'm expected to stay at my computer all day and taught how to process billing reports, whatever that means. While I was a bit disappointed, this, an office where people actually do work and you have to wind your way through a maze of private cubicles to get anywhere, is what I should have expected. It's probably a good thing that I did not end up with a boss like Michael Scott, though I would have liked to have a "Jim," as opposed to an office comprised almost entirely of women. The people, though not overtly friendly or hilariously awkward, seem nice enough when I actually have an opportunity to talk to someone, and the work, though tedious and uncomprehensible, is a more profitable way to spend my time than sitting on my couch.
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