I sold my soul

Today I was thrust forward on my voyage into corporate hell. That’s right folks, I’m temping for The Man. Well, actually, two of them at Time Warner at Columbus Circle. So far, in my 5 hours here I have answered two telephone calls, written two e-mails, made a photocopy, and ordered my exec his favorite prestige V5 pens in purple. I’m here with two other girls. We sit in our respective cubicles, at the ready, our toolbars showing Instant Message windows, MySpace, facebook, and of course MS Outlook….. which I had never used prior to taking my temping test last week. In fact, I think I was only given this assignment because I scored a perfect 100 on my test, perfect score aside, however, I lack some skills in the Outlook department. ..

I also have no security privileges, so I can’t leave the floor until 6 pm. They don’t give swipe badges to temps, so if I were to leave, I’d be forced to wait until someone could swipe me back in. It’s sort of like being back in college and trying to sneak into a dorm that isn’t yours after hours.

I’m beginning to understand why people fill out those incredibly boring MySpace surveys… you know, the ones that tell you what martini you are, or what Jimmy Buffet song you are…. And what’s even worse, I’m beginning to understand why people read them. I’m becoming strangely interested in viewing the pictures of Suzie Q’s cousin’s wedding, and checking out Mary Jane’s new strappy sandals, or Peggy’s engagement ring…. And the prospect of a coffee cake in the break room could quite possibly become something that my entire morning schedule would be built around.

Don’t make me into one of you!!! NO!!!!! I’m too intelligent for this! I have two degrees from ivy-league universities!!! Have I been reduced to a mani/pedi buying, Vogue toting, Starbucks sipping bobblehead???

And you should check out my ensemble. I’m “corporate conservative”, neither of which adjectives should be near anything pertaining to me. I’m currently sporting black high heels, black stockings a black skirt and a white blouse. Nothing about my closet is corporate or conservative. I look like I could seat you at the Olive Garden right now, and god only knows what I’m going to wear tomorrow….

I’ve never been very good at the girly-girl thing. I have a foot phobia, so pedicures are completely out of the question, in fact, if I were to ever pursue a career as a foreign spy, I’m pretty sure I could withstand just about anything you could think of- fishhook me through the eyelids, throw me in a coffin with snakes and bugs, just don’t touch my feet, please! The reason why I bring this up is that everyone is so done up! Perfectly painted feet and hands not a stray hair in the perfectly shaped eyebrow arc….hmm, I’m thinking I should drag a coat of clear polish across my hands tonight when I get home. And I made it as far as the subway before I realized that I had a huge run in my pantyhose. And what’s the deal with pantyhose?? Huh?? Why is it necessary to encase my legs in nylon? I’m reminded of a scene from Six Feet Under in which Claire is forced to work a temp job and abide a strict corporate dress code.

Well, I’m not allowed to complain about how superior I am to this job, because I’m pretty sure that I just hung up on someone while attempting to transfer the call, but here’s where I win again……

Someone once told me that Yale students are good at two things: skimming and scamming. So, what did I do. I looked up the serial number of the phone ol and found the userguide. Booyah….. Fake it ’til you make it baby….

PS, definitely just spent two minutes trying to figure out how to get an outside line….. corporate Melly??? Not so much…..

In other news, I was able to try the newest Dorito flavored chip- which involves hamburger…… and I was one of the first people to know about TBS broadcasting in HD and Dolby digital surround sound….. my world will never be the same, let me tell you.