The boy speaks

I feel a bit of a fraud for agreeing to contribute to this blog because as of this week, I'm no longer an agency temp. I've just been made a 'company temp', which means I get a company salary but none of the niggly bits that proper employees get like benefits, pensions or rights in any way whatsoever. I have however been a bonafide temp for many years and have plenty of material about my past jobs to keep us going for a while if you're interested in that sort of thing.

My first ever temp job was in a hospital when I was 17. I was a skint A level student desperate for cash and was told the job entailed light tidying duties and making cups of tea. Now I don't like hospitals at the best of times and my stomach is weak in the extreme but I thought hey I need the cash and how bad can making a few fogies a cup of tea be?

In actual fact, my job was in the serious burns unit and involved 'tidying' away bits of skin and bandage and making tea for the cleaning lady, who saw my introduction to the company as being the perfect opportunity to do precisely fuck all but smoke fags. So in between the burning fags of the cleaner and the burnt up epidermis factory building up around me, I was getting all the makings of a nervous breakdown. My temp career started as it would continue for the next five years or so- I wanted to kill myself after the first day. I eventually left after the first week and went to a new agency who promised me exciting and fresh opportunities. Not all was as it seemed, surprisingly enough...more later...