The temp tells all

Ever wondered how boring it must be to temp for a living? Wonder no more! Read my blog and share my pain- no snoozing at the back now!

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The vital signs

Whenever I first start an assignment it takes me a little while to find my feet and I usually judge how well a job is going to go by how quickly I can suss out what the permanent staff and/ or other temps think of the place. By making a few observations about its employees, you can easily assess the company and its management and decide whether it's worth sticking around.

Don't get comfortable if

- People go for lots of fag breaks. This either means that the management are too slack and therefore aren't serious about their jobs (which is bad because you'll never move forward) or the staff are so miserable that speeding up their inevitable death by smoking themselves stupid is the only way they can get through the day.

- There's never any loo paper in the toilets. This means that the cleaners hate the staff and every temp has to befriend at least one cleaner, to avid them rifling through their belongings or to make sure they're always stocked up with refreshments.

- You have to pay for hot drinks. A company this tight will never up your rate for work well done or loyalty. Strip the stationery cupboard bare and ask to be reassigned.

Things are looking up if:

- People wear nice clothes. Even if they're not designer, the fact that people wear nice clothes and look good is a sign that people are happy at their job. Sitting on reception and watching everyone walk by in badly-fitting polyester is soul-destroying and rings alarm bells to me.

- Lots of people go for lunch together. While this can also demonstrate a pack mentality of twats, it also means that people generally get on well enough to spend free time together. Watch out for companies where lone lunchers sit with their Marks and Spencer sandwich on a bench outside the office.

- Your email, web access and phone line is operational within thirty seconds of you arriving on your first day. Any longer than that and you'll have to deal with IT morons all day and any company that would put you through that shit isn't worth it.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Back from the brink

When things go well for me, they fly, but when they go bad, it's pretty bad. For anyone out there wondering where I have been for the last million years or so, the simple explanation is that I've been ill. Being ill gives a person a lot of time to think and I've been having mini crises day in day out, one of them was should I grow up and get a permanent job, but I then realised that I didn't really know what it was I wanted to do. So this means that although previously I saw temping as a way of life, it's now something to do while I think about what I want to do. Got me? No I'm not convinced either.

Having been off ill for quite a while, starting back on my first assignment was a weird experience. Like a leader who's been exiled, it was weird coming into a office and re-familiarising myself with all the tools of my trade. I took my place behind my desk as if getting back on a horse after a nasty fall. My new boss had clearly been briefed that I'd been out of the game in a while and explained everything very slowly as if teaching a child how to go to the toilet. I sat impassively as she explained every last button on a phone I've used at hundreds of different jobs before. Why complain? If she wants to waste her time teaching an old dog like me new tricks then so be it.

My new job is at a publishing house. They publish magazines, but believe me, Ugly Betty this is not. The publishing house distributes mags about angling, caving, and bat watching (possibly). Basically, it's a load of sports that you know people do but have never met anyone who actually does it. There's also the odd knitting title and lots of baking magazines. The only up side is my boyfriend's thrilled with the amount of new recipes I'm brining home. I don't cook them, he just likes to read them and imagine what he could eating if I wasn't such a lazy cow. So I've been her for two weeks almost and so far, so same old same old. It's a busy reception, with lots of stupid enquiries about subscriptions, article submissions and all manner of fraught housewives desperately searching for recipes for pastry. I have a cohort to help me with reception and wonder upon wonder it's a man! Well, a boy. He's called Jeff and is about 19. He's also a general dogsbody for just about anyone but is here to help if I need it. His first conversation with me entailed him telling me not to bother asking him to make a cup of tea because he'd "only do it wrong". I pointed out that I would just keep sending him back until he got it right and that I had all the time in the world. Either that or he could get his arse top Starbucks, his choice. Whether he admired me or thought I was a bitch I've no idea and he'll probably spit, piss AND wank into my tea, but at least I get to stay seated.

There's lots, lots more to tell but my wrists are aching and Jeffrey has been taking an awful long time in the kitchen...