Another day, another office

Well, here we go again. My voice is hoarse from all of the total bullshit I've had to come out with all day on my outbound sales calls. My role is to ring up people who are already crippled with exorbitant mortgage payments and try and persuade them to take out more money and make their mortgage even bigger. I get to sit down all day in a harshly-lit former warehouse, drink bad (but free) coffee and read off statements printed for me on neon card to try and get these suckers to say yes to a lifetime of debt and misery. Poor sods.

The people seem OK- well I assume so because nobody has spoken to me. My smiles are returned, which is a start I guess.

One downside of this job is that the security guard has got 'tit' written all over him. Not literally, of course. He was at great pains to point out that temps could only be admitted by him personally and nobody else. Forgetting myself, I asked what would happen if he dropped dead suddenly. "I don't think that will ever happen" he said. So we obviously have some kind of undead chief lock-keeper on our hands here. As he showed me to my desk, he said to me that all temps were kept in a separate coloured area so an eye could be kept on them, that it was for my own safety and I shouldn't feel singled out. I don't know what they're expecting me to do- run off with one of their up to date computers that's so old they keyboard is made of parchment? Go on a thieving frenzy in the stationery cupboard? Shove a headset down my bra?

I think Des was sorry to see me go from my old assignment the other day. He gave me his number and said to get in touch if was ever in the area. You can count on it that I will not be making that call.