Confessions of a Tempee

In my current confusion I have found myself temping almost full time.

I haven't completely squashed ideas of freelancing or redirecting into another career but I have to take one step at a time and do what is right for the moment.

Obviously the money ain't great, and there are moments when I find myself stuffing envelopes and wondering how this came about. But on the whole I am loving it. Loving the freedom. Loving the 9-5. Loving the walking home unburdened at the end of the day, watching office politics from a distance.

Most of all I am loving dipping into lives I didn't know existed. Finding the world ripe with eccentricity. My current 'boss' in the marketing department of a snack food re-saler is Alan Partridge. Not a bad man, but definitely existing via a reality all of his own.

On my first day he self-importantly took me into a meeting room to tell me all about the company. He then got into a battle with his loud, rumbling stomach, which kept on interrupting his speech. Rather than smile at the situation, or even ignore it - he got angry. At every rumble he gave a dirty look downwards, shifting furiously in his chair. There was even some clearing of the throat to communicate his displeasure, as daggers flew from his eyes. I tried to smile reassuringly, but to no avail.

In the end he stabbed his hand into a box in the corner (presumably stock supposed to be sent somewhere) and pulled out a chocolate bar which he proceeded to eat.

Later in the day I heard him on the phone to someone responsible for a cigarette advert. "We need to move this line to the bottom somewhere," he said. "The one that says smoking can seriously damage blah blah blah. It is a bit negative, don't you think?"