Temporary

I apologize that I've been straying away from what I initially envisioned that I'd be writing about on this blog, but I've been completely over taken by instances that are making the enjoyment that I take from comics, video games, and anime miniscule.

One of the big things in my life right now is that I'm unemployed. Like all who are unemployed and desperate for a paycheck are apt to do, I joined up with a temp agency. I took my tests, sweating and nauseous, I’ve taken my holiday and birthday checks and spent them on corporate wear from Goodwill. I’ve been practicing the application of eye shadow. I try speaking loudly and with confidence. I’ve mastered the trick of faking enthusiasm toward something that makes me burrow my head into my pillow at night and sob.

I told my temp agency that I’d be interested in working for non-profits, but they insist on sticking me in a corporate setting. I can’t shrug off my awkwardness.

I understand that I’m probably sound whiney and immature—that I’m being melodramatic in a situation that I can’t avoid. That I’m sounding over privileged. After all, I was able to attend and finish college when my parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents weren’t able to.

I’m trying to suck it up, but it gets difficult with each $10-an-hour. I’m flat out bored and frustrated. I’m furious that I’m thousands of dollars into debt, yet the only job with benefits that I could only hope to qualify for is to be a receptionist or secretary.

Yesterday was a sunny day because I had a job interview with a community college, in foreign language studies and ESL department. It was dingy and messy. Student projects were taped up to the walls. The woman who interviewed me had a soft and soothing voice. It was only until halfway through the interview did I realize she was the department chair. And I have to wait until next Friday to see if I got the job.

Until then it’s the temp jobs. The nine-hour days with the hour lunch break where I hide the feminist book I’m reading. Where I try to sneak breaks on the company’s internet only to mess up when answering the phone a minute later. Each and every company’s name is a last name and I can’t keep any of them straight.

Freaking Out

By Friday this week it'll all be done, finished, the end, kaput. I'll be a graduating undergraduate, prepared and ready to face the cold, cruel world with a dashing hat and a collar pulled up around my cheeks.

Except I'm all anxious: anticipating unemployment, uncomfortable job interviews, and tens of thousands of dollars worth of debt. And even before that, I have four tests to take and ten page paper on Louis Zukofsky's objectivism to complete.

Yuck.