I am a temp.
...and although this may sound attractive on some levels...example: no overtime, no take home work, no company christmas parties, no out of town business client meetings for weeks on end for 3 months straight...it does have it's serious downsides.

1. No vacation. Not only are you not paid for it, but you're made to feel guilty for suggesting a break.
2. Twice the work with half of the crapiest of office equipment. I worked here for one week before I got a pen, two weeks before I got a notepad, and three weeks before I got a trash can; and then I felt so much gratiude, that I nearly gave a speech. I have an ink jet printer that no one knows the idiocynracies of. A computer with the dinkiest of hard drive space, no admin rights for downloads (not even internet favorites), no e-mail privacy, and all the settings set at retard out of the box logic.
3. You are the wierd guy out. No matter that everyone in your office is a little strange, you just happen to be the least familiar to them. Long after you're gone, you will be part of a legend of 'the girl with the really bad breath', the 'girl that only wore pants', 'the girl who couldn't get her printer to work', or 'the girl that breathed too hard out of her nose'.
4. Office workers think you are an idiot because you can't figure out the most obvious of truths. Having performed the same job function for many years often trainers skip on critical instructions to your job/heathy existance at your assignment.
Example:
Take the elevator two floors up. Make a right across the breezeway. Walk as far down the hall until it ends. You'll be on the third floor. Take the elevator down to the basement and there is the cafeteria. Easy really.
I ended up going down the hall to where it continued through two swinging doors with a large sign overhead reading: Psychiatric. I found myself faced with a crossroads: to push forward, or backtrack in search of those elevators.
My mind sometimes goes back to that moment, wondering what lies behind those doors. Perhaps the greatest cafeteria in the whole hospital...
...but a temp always back pedals into going down.

How to survive a breakup

I must be mad… am I really the only one who searches for the God between a folded Chinese fortune cookie?
When my fingertips tear through the noisy wrapper, my head mumbles wishes, prayers, and questions I’ve been needing the answers to. Mumbling the string until the wrapper pulls straight away revealing only the golden naked cookie and then I repeat my greatest desire lastly with complete focus.
I crack the little host halfways, sure to bite just the once. The one bite satisfies the covenant somehow, thereby making a legitimate ritual of it all. Other wise, the rest is discarded…because even wise Chinaman agree: fortune cookie taste like shit.
My fingers rifle through the smashed up bits to unbury the slip.
I believe every word it reads,
“Listen not to vain words of empty tounge.”