Category: On Work

On moving toward money, and meaning.

At Work again

Today is day two of work. Work. Work.  What is that, you say? Work? Why would I do such a foolish thing like that, when I had the cushy life, sitting around, eating bon bons, sleeping in, and “writing” all day?  Well, it’s a weird thing, but productivity, it seems, begets itself. At least in…

Zen and the Art of Temping

If you are wondering what a little slice of hell is, it’s this: being in the office, as a temp, and having the person you are replacing show up, unannounced. Then having her say: May I have a hanger please? as she stares at your coat on the rack with disdain. Then having her say:…

Cubicle Days

Seems like just yesterday I was that awkward, gawky new girl in the office. Now, Temp-days are ending. What can I do, to fill my time now? No more hole punch cocktails. No more stapler wars. No more chair spin competitions. No more “ARRARHCCHHGH!” from the copier room, as the feeder jams again. No more…

Me vs. the Minutes

I’m supposed to be typing up minutes. But I’m not. As you can see. Big round table. Men in suits… Ties everywhere. Nice cup of tea, getting cold. Mumble mumble. Scratch on pad. Quote: “MUMBLE. MUMBLE.” Now I’m at my desk and now I have to type up MINUTES. Minutes are the Brussel sprouts of…

T-E-M-P

Where am I, you might be asking? I am in a temporary place. It’s really pretty. I have a glass box–well glass on two sides, that I sit inside for 8 hours. I type things on letterhead. I make coffee and tea. I am in T-E-M-P land. It’s nice here. This particular version of Templand…

In Plastic Armour

I was walking back from the Passage to Victoria station the other day and I came upon, well, this. They gave me an orange from a basket. I could choose, actually. Apple or orange. They were promoting a website, a site to change your life. The tall one was funny. He asked, after he heard…

A familiar fear for an American in London

Published in The Kansas City Star, July 9, 2005 By ELIZABETH G. HOWARD Special to The Star LONDON — For the first few hours after the four explosions Thursday, it felt creepy, awful and horribly familiar. The BBC tore a page directly from an American news channel textbook: repeating the images of the decapitated double-decker…