That's a wrap!

It's all over now, 2015 that is.  It seemed like it alternated between running away like a speeding train and dragging on forever.  It really wasn't such a great year for me in many respects, but in others it was a year of learning and accomplishment.

I reentered the work force as an office temp and now it seems I may have a job.  The job is great.  I love what I do, so far.  I started down one path, I really did have a plan to see it through and start a new direction in December, but then the temp slot opened up in early December, one thing led to another and my path got diverted.  No one can change the flow of a river without some losses.  I've had to delay the classes I was taking, and I had to change my deadline promise to myself.  It's a promise I intend to keep, but I'm using the longer date range.  I guess that just goes to show me, that no matter how clear the road map seems, there can always be a detour and often a very lovely one at that.  For now, I'm embracing my detour with open mind, open heart and open arms.

Our son is growing up, he's making changes, he's making mistakes (often fairly big mistakes) which I hope he's learning from, he's learning to communicate as a young adult.  We need to work together to help him set some realistic goals for 2016.  This year we learned that a bachelor's degree may no longer make fiscal sense.  I was attempting to show him that teachers do make a fairly decent wage, "look son, see, they do make more than you thought but you will probably want to have a wife who also works.  See, these are two year degrees and look how little they make..." the words died on my lips as we saw those associate's degrees pay more for entry level than a teacher with a master's degree would make.  Our son is now trying to decide which path would make the most sense for him.  We are all coming to terms with the face of the workplace today.

Our cat had his 13th birthday last May.  He got a new sofa, new carpet, and a climbing tree this year.  He trusts none of that stuff.  He is not as afraid to touch the sofa and has been diligently clawing one corner of the sofa to keep it in check while demonstrating his dominance over all furniture and soft things.  He sometimes will drag a piece of meat onto the carpet so it knows the pecking order too.  He got the climbing thing for Christmas, he is still regarding it with suspicion.

One thing led to another and we ended up having to donate the first new car we've ever bought back in July/August.  It appears a national chain tire shop lied to us about the damage.  We found out, only after we'd bought another car.  We got a gently used 2014 Cruze LTZ with less than 18k miles on it.  We do love the new (to us) car but we do miss our L300.  We got the full blue book price as a deduction because our car did sell, and rather quickly too.  Our son felt terrible about the L300, that was the first car he really remembers riding in and it became his car after he got his license.  We bought her brand new back in 2004 in TX.  He's since acquired our 2003 Vue.  He doesn't like it as much as he liked his car, but he is adapting.  He did the only thing he could do, to avoid an accident.  He didn't lock up the brakes, he started braking and steered toward the curb to avoid an accident.  His instincts are great when it comes to driving.  A pick-up truck pulled out right in front of him on a busy road.  The other drivers scare me, his driving doesn't scare me.

I lost a lot of people I cared about this past year.  The worst of the losses was a friend's son.  Nothing causes a Mother and Father to cling to their child and overlook some things their child does than the death of another child.  After that death I hovered a lot and am still a bit clingy.

I cut some negative people out of my life and feel liberated.

I learned that some people are a lot more monstrous and depraved than I had ever imagined.  I did get angry with God and question him.  I know that's not likely to produce answers, but it felt like unburdening to me.  I still believe, I still pray, but I wonder why some things are allowed to happen.  I know, the whole "free will" thing.  I think some actions are beyond "free will" and that certain people should probably just be exterminated.

My goals for the coming year are modest....hold on for the ride and hope for the best.

I hope that you have a healthy, happy year ahead of you.

Thank you for reading my wordy ramblings

Bliss

Raising a teenager is a really rocky road.  It's usually rocky because they're having tantrums and throwing the rocks much like they did at two, the differences are they're bigger now, won't take naps, can't be controlled with sippy cups, blankies or a favorite toy.

The past few days have been bliss.  My husband has been on vacation from work.  Our son has been on vacation from school and I'm taking the week off my online class.  Monday and Tuesday mornings our son crawled in bed with us to snack and watch YouTube videos with us and our cat Kung Pao.  He's been really polite and helpful.  He vocally admitted that since he decided to mind more he's been given more freedom just like we promised him.  That revelation was on Tuesday the 24th.  He showed wisdom, I also got some encouraging news on the 24th.  The 24th also happened to be my late daddy's 99th birthday.

Today I was out at a store.  I went down one aisle after I found exactly what I'd been looking for but forgot a few months ago.  When I turned a corner I was facing a headless mannequin the same size, shape and height as my late mama.  She passed away the day before Thanksgiving (27th) in 1985.  The mannequin was even dressed in an outfit she absolutely would have worn paired with a necklace my late mother-in-law would have worn.  When I walked behind the mannequin the sweater was even raised in the same place Mama's shirts always raised.  I smiled for quite a while

All I can do is smile and feel the love and the legacy they left behind.  I feel them (Daddy and Mama) in the choices I make and the words I say.  Sometimes they're hurtful words, sometimes they're kind words, sometimes I chastise, sometimes I praise.  I know they're gone, but the gifts they gave me have carried me through some difficult times.  I see things that remind me of them and feel a closeness.  We speak of them with love and smiles.  I see certain aspects of my mother-in-law in my husband.  I see traits of all of them in our Son.

I have no idea how our parents coped.  My husband's mom was born in 1944.  She was young enough in the 1970's and 1980's to go with the flow.  My mama was born in 1915 and my daddy was born in 1916.  They were not as easily adapted.  Daddy was very much into learning, I think he'd enjoy the technology.  Mama was not as open minded.  She truly believed that in a storm you had to put the cat out of the house because they drew lighting, so did hand sewing, using scissors or anything else metal.  Mama passed away when I was 15.  There was a huge generational gap.

I have absolutely no idea how she would have handled me at 17.  My son is so much like me, we constantly butt heads.  I was "stubborn as a mule!" and "would argee (argue)  with a sign post!"  I still am to a degree, but I'm learning to bend.  We are all learning to bend.

These past few days have been bliss.  He's acting like the Son I know him to be.  This change of heart started on the 19th.  I'm holding my breath, hoping for the best, trying to prepare for the worst and at this moment I am enjoying this ride so much!   :)

What to say.....?

I don't know what to say, so I'll just blurt out what's on my mind....

On Sunday night, I started this rosy post about how lucky I am to have a wonderful Husband who provides for us so well, for having a smart Son who usually makes good decisions, for my Son being able to play a Jr. football halftime scrimmage years ago on Ford Field during a Lions pre-season game, I was going to write about how we've done things we consider normal that are part of people's bucket lists.  We've seen NHL, NFL and MLB games....the tickets were either free or low in price.  I took it for granted that everyone must have been to a pro game.  We aren't even sports fans.  We enjoy a game when we go, but don't seek them out.  What brought all this on was my Husband feeling too bad to go the Lion's game someone gave him tickets for.  I told the ladies at work (I had to put in a few hours on Sunday) that he was deciding not to go and planning to give the tickets away.  All of them said that was on their bucket list.  We've been to New Zealand, most of the 50 states and to a few provinces in Canada. There are some people I know who've never even been on an airplane, or seen a metropolis. It hit me then that we are blessed.  We have lived a lot of people's dreams.   I worry and fret about money, we struggle to make ends meet and have a tad of overlap.  We are like everyone else.

On Monday I sent my Husband a text telling him I love him, thanking him for being a great provider, keeping us safe and despite our mutual mediocre parenting that he is a great Father and that our Son was lucky to have him and so am I.  Monday I nagged my son in texts but failed to say I love you in any of them because his friends read them sometimes.  Today...I don't care. I will tell him I love him in texts because of Tuesday.

On Tuesday my "Pollyanna" outlook died. My Son sent me one of the worst texts I've ever gotten.  He told me to contact my friend "Lucy"  because her son "Will" committed suicide on Monday.  I thought it was a macabre game that Will was playing with his friends, it being so close to Halloween and all.  I went to my friend's facebook page.  It was horrible and ugly because it was true.

I sent her a text, she responded with thanks.

Will is my son's age, they spent time together as three of us Mom's yapped after school when we went to pick them up.  They rough housed with each other, Will, his little brother, my Son and another friend's son.  Will and my Son were in one class together.  That was enough for the poor teachers at their middle school.  The boys moved on to HS and we Mom's didn't hang out waiting for them anymore, they had after-school activities.  In other words we drifted and I am filled with "I meant to's".

Thursday we went to his viewing.  It was gut wrenching.  To look upon the face of a young man I had known, who was friends with my son was terrible. Will was all over the room.  Photos of Will as a baby, him in his various activities, him growing up, his family, his brother, his baby book, photo albums. his baby shoes and at the foot of the coffin, his empty hunting boots.  Lucy was holding up as well as she could.  I've never seen Lucy not be Lucy, but her spark was gone.  Will's brother is filled with hate.  He blames Lucy for it all.  I know he has to blame someone.  I know in time he will blame Will and be angry with him, but it's much too soon for that.  He's lost his courage.  Will was the "devil may care...push the limits" guy and his brother is a reserved methodical person.  Will was a helium balloon whereas his brother was his tether.  They were good for each other.

Friday, we went to the funeral.  We were there in time to get seats.  It filled up two chapels, standing room only.  I heard Lucy break and I saw Will's brother break.  Neither one went to the other.  Lucy has lost both son's for all intents and purposes.  Time will heal part of this, but not all of it.  Nothing will ever heal all of it.  The ceremony honored Will's life.  My Son sat with me and let me hold his hand a lot.

I seem to be crying at the drop of a hat.  I am so sad the family is so fractured.  I know they need each other to heal but they may never truly come together to support one another.  The parents are divorced and remarried.  The divorce was over 10 years ago and remarriages happened at least 10 years ago, so it wasn't a catalyst.  No one, aside from Will, truly knows why he felt this was the best or only option.

People often turn to God only in times of need or despair.  I pray when I think of a person.  I thank him when I look around at my life and the people I know.  We don't go to church but we do believe, we are saved, our Son is dedicated and is currently questioning and searching like most teens.  I keep hearing God heals all wounds.  I believe that he does, but only if the people are willing to accept that guidance and help.  When deep wounds heal the scar tissue is always tender for a very long time and can easily tear.  When people are trying to heal it seems they tend to tear at the scab or the new skin to rehash and open healing wounds.  I've seen it and I've lived it.  Very few people can seek and accept that healing guidance and move forward with a small scar, I failed that test.  There won't be any small scar with this wound, this is a gaping hole.

I am thankful for so much, my Husband, my life, our pets, but most of all my Son.  I just want to hold him and never let him go.

If anyone reading this has a teenager in their lives, make time for them.  Even when they are behaving like idiots, driving you to drink, causing you worry and fear, make time for them and think of how much you love about them.  Tell them.  If, by chance, a teenager is reading this.  Know that no matter how insignificant and unloved you feel, you aren't.  I don't care who you are, or what you've done.  Someone cares very deeply for you.  You've sent out ripples that will impact people you don't even know.  When people tease you, make fun of you, tear you down and try to ruin your reputation, remember, it's only a few years.  You just have to make it to college, you just have to hold on until then.

Get help.  I know teens won't rat on each other, I know that parents can't fight those battles like we did in elementary school.  It kills us to watch you hurting inside.  We, as parents and former teens, want to help.  If you can't turn to your parents, go to a teacher you like and just talk.  Let it out.  Don't hold on to the crap people say and do.  Know that they have more serious problems than you do.  They hurt people because they are mean, spiteful, rude kids who never learned a lesson on life.  Trust in fate and know that what they dish out will come back on them, it may take years, but they will get exactly what they've dished out somehow.

 If your parents or a person in charge (teacher, principal) is hurting you emotionally or physically, call a teen helpline, go to a shelter, turn to a friend's parents or a trusted Teacher or Preacher.  Help yourself with their guidance.  Live for yourself.  Live to spite them if that's what motivates you.  There are better ways to get revenge on a person (even a parent who's hurt you), revenge is moving on, not having them in your life by your choice then living the best life you can, the life that makes you happy, the life that allows you to reach your dreams.

High school is hard!  The idiot who said "these are the best years of your life" was a delusional maniac.  They are only good because you have no bills to pay and you don't have to support yourself financially.  These are some of the worst years you will ever have.  Years sound like forever to teenagers, take it hour by hour, day by day. All you have to do is take it one step at a time, one day at a time.  I have felt unloved, I've been the joke at school, I've been the weirdo.  I chose to act and dress the way I did because that way I controlled what they made fun of.  I never let them in far enough to find out what my real problems were.  Put up a mask if you have to, in order to protect yourself.  If you have one good friend who knows you, the real you, then you are truly blessed.  Very few people keep in touch after high school.  When high school is over your real life starts.  There is a light at the end of the dark tunnel and it won't always be a train.  Sometimes it's just the end of the tunnel where the world opens up. You just have to get through that tunnel.

If you made it to the end of this entry....kudos because it was long and very personal.

Ditzy Friends are the Best!

Ditz-as defined by Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary is a silly person who often forgets things.

Ditz – as defined by the Urban Dictionary equates us with Valley Girls…I’m like so totally cool with that!  Like ya know??

Ditz- as defined by The Free Dictionary is a scatterbrained eccentric person

I agree for the most part with these definitions.  Airhead also comes to mind as does distracted from trying to train a husband and teenager to act as mature as the cat.  I come by my ditzy moments honestly.  I was often a ditz as a teenager out of necessity.  There were people I didn’t really want to hang out with, who would be joining our group on an excursion or to a party.  “I like totally forgot!!” about the party or excursion so many times when an annoying person was to be joining us.  I also acted scatterbrained to get out of certain chores or to avoid other unpleasantries.   Being a semi-ditz at times was detrimental because there were some fun things that I genuinely forgot about because my mind was all over the place. 

Having a ditz as a friend is an excellent friend indeed.  We can be your excuse for not wanting to go places too.  Blame it on the ditz!  Chances are we won’t care, won’t get wind of it or will totally forget it in a few minutes. 

Everyone should have at least one ditz as a friend, unless of course you are a ditz, then you want to cut that right the heck out!  One can’t have two ditzes in the same social group.  The meeting would possibly trigger a blackhole or some other unimaginable physical horror.  When ditz’s collide nothing good can come of it.    

Ditziness is also great for gift giving.  I can go Christmas shopping with my husband in July or August.  Pick out a few things, watch him buy them, then he hides them and I totally forget about them until Christmas morning!  We did that one year with purses.  I vaguely recalled from time to time looking at purses but couldn’t remember if I’d purchased one or not.  Turns out it was two of them.  I used to have a thing for shoes, now I have a thing for purses.  I tend to stick to the same few pairs of shoes because I need more sole stability now.  I do miss high heels but will survive. 

I’m not a ditz all the time.  Just when I’m tired of thinking, tired of being a grown up or just plain tired in general.  Not to brag, but I’m actually fairly intelligent.  I just choose to allocate that intelligence as needed then hide behind masks such as sarcasm, ditziness (It can be hard work to act vacuous or vapid) or churlishness.  I’ve been taken advantage of many times it’s easier when people think I’m far too dim witted to do something to be of use to them.  I don’t want people in my life who want to use me and abuse me.   I want people in my life who value me, who can put up with all my masks and allow me to drop the masks at times.  I like being able to be counted on by friends with whom I share a mutual respect.  I don’t act ditzy at work either.  I have done this in the past to avoid crappy shifts at a crappy job when I was a teenager. 

The song Because I’m a Blonde could, at times, be my anthem (aside from the fact that I’m not blonde). A certain level of ditziness can help mask pain too; both emotional and physical.  When I’m spending time with certain people I hide behind a wall of stupidity.  It’s easier to have them become angry because they think I’m an idiot, than it is to allow them to take out their usual hateful aggression on me simply because I’m around.  I can hear the clucking now.  I have indeed told these people I don’t like being treated the way they treat me.  I have stood up for myself a countless number of times, all to no avail.  I choose my battles and battling once again for mutual respect isn’t worth it to me.  I’d rather just cower for a few days in abject stupidity pondering when the next basket weaving class might form up.  There is no escaping spending some amount of time with these people, otherwise I’d be all over it!  The  people who mistake me for stupid often show how ignorant they truly are, thus leading to a lot of hilarity when their own idiocy trips them up in public.  Every so often I enjoy popping off with a level of knowledge they don’t think I possess.  The look on their faces is priceless. 

Having a ditz or a pseudo-ditz in your life is a must.  I have had ditzes in my life and I’ve been the ditz.  I am of course totally stupid, and an absolute ditz and quite possibly the worst parent on the planet at the moment, for I have a teenaged child.  I have been assured by other people who seem reasonably smart and fairly reliable that by the time he’s 25 or so, I will become less stupid and he will actually ask my advice.  I am hoping this is true and not a fairy tale told to give me a false sense of hope.  If it’s true then I am gonna be pretty darn ditzy for a really long time then! 

Let them eat cake

Or pie...pie is good too...oh but so are cookies and some ice-cream and other frozen desserts....

Well, it’s finally happened.  My son is 17.  I am 25 again.  We’ve survived another year of birthdays, anniversaries, and all those celebrations involving cake as we head into the holidays.  Everyone loves Christmas or Easter, a lot of people love Thanksgiving or the 4^th of July.  Memorial day and labor day picnics are a must for most people.  We are not most people.  I am not most people.  I prefer a nice shady dark cool corner somewhere.  I must have been a spider or other cool, dark corner dweller.  Perhaps I was a resident of the desert with no rain and approximately 20 hours of sunlight with temps in the low 200’s.  At any rate, in our household cake season is on hold from June to Oct.  Thusly I have decided to relocate my birthday to a more acceptable month in order to spread out cakery. 

I am thinking August. 

In June we have Annibirfather’s day  (anniversary, Husband’s birthday (yes someone was crazy enough to marry me) and Father’s day)  One year I forgot what day it was and failed to wish my husband a happy birthday upon first sight.  He looked crushed and said “Well??”  I was all like “What?”  Then he told me it was his birthday.  I proudly announced No, your birthday is tomorrow.  He asked me the date of his birthday (yep I knew it) I told him and he said “that’s today” again in airhead mode I was all like “Omg it’s so totally not!”  I’ll check my phone.  That damn backstabbing piece of technology agreed with him about the date!  That jerky phone!  Warranty my butt.  I turned on the news, looked at a paper…I pulled out all the stops.  Everything  in the world had banded together with him in some wicked “fool the wife” prank leaving me totally confused.  I meekly wished him a happy birthday and scuttled off to make or procure a cake.  Since June is very cake heavy with Anniversary, followed one week later by birthday, then Father’s day about a week after that.  I get one cake for the target birthdate, unless we are jonesing for frosting, then I use the earlier date.  If other desserts have entered our lives I may go all wild and post pone it until Father’s day.  

Then boom…….dearth of cake.

July is a berryish month with cookies and halva or something else kind of light and or frozen

August is frozen confections, sherbet, ice cream, fruit bars, fresh fruit, cookies 

September is back to school drown your teenage tears in this lovely cake, but don’t cry on my side of the frosting.

October my son and I have birthdates one day apart.  His is literally the next day.  He likes one kind of frosting, I like another.

November is pieish

December is every dessert not nailed down

January, still mopping up desserts from December

February is Valentine’s day cake

March or April is Easter cake, the other is whatever cake I end up making

May is Mother’s day cake and Kitty’s birthday.  Pao doesn’t really eat cake, but he does like real whipped cream and likes cakes made of his favorite food with a pup-peroni  stuck in the top.

That eventually returns us to the fact that there is a stretch from July through August seriously devoid of cake.  I must sacrifice my birthday for the greater good of cake-kind..  There will be frosting roses in August and they will be mine, mine, all mine!!  Until I cut the first slice then share it around.  I’m not a total cake hog! 

Well, I’m another year older, I’d like to say wiser but I’m not sure.  According to recent research conducted by my son on a bad day I am “senseless and irresponsible” because I did something to upset young master tyrant.  I have also been told just how often I’m ruining his life…which seems to be whenever I utter the word “No”.  I have learned a few new things this year, such as temping is a lot of fun in the right environment.  I think I prefer temping to actual full time employment status.  Temping allows me to say no if I’m having a bad run of things.  I’m also learning new things at everyplace and refreshing my skills.  I have learned that cat bites don’t infect if properly bled and then licked by said biter.  In his defense he was chewing his own nails and mine got in the way.  He decided it was high time I learn to chew my nails like a proper cat.  I’ve totally digressed….

So my new birthday is in August.  I am not yet sure of the day but I may float the day based on what desserts we have on hand.  I must plan ahead!  Cake is serious business and not to be purchased or made frivolously! 

Rage Against the Machine(s)

There are some days I just know, without a doubt, that if I touch something things will go horribly awry.  My powers of fuckupitedness can also rub off on others should they touch any machine after I’ve used it on one of “those” days.  I’m not sure if my hands are too cold, if my case of bitchy resting face, my lack of machine competence or my fear of the monster that lives in the printer rubs off on the machine and is picked up like a virus by others, or if I somehow place a hex on the machines after I touch one.   There are days I don’t even have to touch a machine, the mere suggestion of it is enough to make the poor thing start spewing out gibberish and die before I even send document one to a printer. 

There are times I know, without a doubt I’ve sent one copy of one document only to a printer only to have the thing give me 5 copies of a different document, one that isn’t even open.  I’ve sent one test label to the label printer only to have it print out on the normal printer.  I have no idea how that happened.  After a printer mishap I go back to my computer to look at my logical progression, of events but this answers no questions and often leads me to hold myself and say “why, why, why?”

I tried literally 9 times to print one label a few days ago.  I could not get one scan off it.  Labels must pass with an A, B or C grade.  When I did get an accidental scan it was an F.  Another person, the printer whisperer, got my labels to print from her computer with perfect A’s?!  We both used the same settings.  I had her come over to lay hands on my computer in hopes that she could exorcise the demon that surely must be camped out inside there a long with the little guy who runs the bytes of data back and forth on slow days.   Even her powers of perfection were no match for my anti-machine powers.  I had the manager come over to complain at my computer, berate it and reset the margins.  It worked for her and for me too.  I even got one A.  Then the next batch of labels came time to be printed.  Once again the computer possession was in full force.  I’m not saying that it was speaking in demonic voices or anything but I’m certain that if there is print work to be done in hell that a manual I must have written will be there to instruct all the machines on proper etiquette.   I think I heard the scanner laugh as I approached it with the labels then utter a “None Shall Pass”. None didst pass.  I gamely followed the written margins the printer whisper gave me despite being told that we should never have to change the margins.  

It worked….then the printer ran out of labels.  I learned how to change the labels.  Later that same day, it ran out of ribbon.  Then it decided to skip a few labels.  As the day progressed the printer started taking in papers in a staggered manner printing one page over the span of two because two sheets were being sucked in with a staggered space.  I took out the drawer, reset the paper and went on.  Then it got a two tray one door paper jam.  I fixed that.  At that point I was simply daring the master of machines to strike me down with toner aplenty and douse me in shredded bits of misprinted paper.  I did not care, I had reached a document with 666 in the title and figured that was my best and only chance to zap the demons from the machines and really get them where it hurt.  I would successfully print a group of documents with the currently accepted mark of the beast and dare the printers and computer to harm me.  They printed out fine.  

“Temp”-orary Insanity

I have been a stay at home wife and Mother for the most part of 16 years now.  I did quite a bit of volunteering during the early years of my son’s illustrious school career (totally sarcastic).  I helped out where I could with some of the sports he played and did the whole family thing. 

Now I find myself so far out of the workforce that the edgier skills I had are all completely dated and outmoded.  I don’t have enough work credits to qualify for social security or medicare when my time comes.  I never thought I’d be the age I am and wonder what I want to be when I grow up.  I never realized that a person had to have a certain number of work credits to qualify for social security and medicare.  I thought they just sort of “happened” when you hit 65 or so.  I was completely wrong!

In order to get back in the working world and dip my toes in the water; I have turned to temping.  I am currently on my second assignment.  The first lasted three months and I have no idea how long this assignment will last, it’s rumored they like me.  I am fully enjoying it and do hope it lasts as long as it can before this company has to return me to the agency pool.

If you have never done temporary work before, it’s like this;

• 1.)    You are like a red shirt on Star Trek…you know you will be written out, you just don’t know that will happen
• 2.)    They really DO count on you when the chips are down and there are deadlines to meet. 
• 3.)    You have to go with the flow.  You have to learn many new skills, adapt quickly and smoothly and do it all with a smile on your face while eagerly asking for more, all while knowing that you have a much shorter shelf life than a twinkie with the company you are contracted to work for.
• 4.)    You have to be on time and work the full time, you shouldn’t milk the clock, word may spread.
• 5.)    You don’t fit in.  Do the best you can to follow along with the conversation, get to know the people you work with, but not all day.   No matter how engaging you think you are….you simply will never be “one of them”. 
• 6.)    We ALL make mistakes and you have to own up to them more so than regular employees of the company do.  Great managers will help you correct your mistakes, learn from them and move on. 
• 7.)    You really are appreciated, especially if your work is good and you take the work seriously.

I am enjoying temp work.  I’ve learned some very good new skills and dusted off some rarely used older skills.  During the first assignment I got thrown into the deep end of typing.  Since my spinal cord ding, I’ve not been the most rapid or accurate typist.  I am MUCH better now since the data entry assignment.  During this assignment I am learning all about how orders for stores get from place to place, a lot of the little things that go into you getting that shirt with your favorite team….the Missabamaflorianalinan Cthulu Chaps….logo on the front and how to help make that happen. 

There are some signs that you should break up with an employer too, as bad as that sounds. 

• 1.)    Job not as described
• 2.)    Hours not as described
• 3.)    Abusive work conditions
• 4.)    Inadequate management or no training to do the job you were contracted to do
• 5.)    Management has little to no control over employees
• 6.)    Lack of clear leadership
• 7.)    Unsafe or illegal working conditions

Those are some serious violations and put everyone at risk.  Temp jobs like that tend to sour many people on the entire temp experience.  My first temp job in data entry in Feb had some management issues, but I was fine working around those.  I had to call it quits just under three months into it (expiration date anyway) because the hours and job description totally changed.  It was no longer as described and wasn’t something I could adequately handle.  I think the best way to handle it,  is to discuss  your need to quit, in person with the company you are performing temp services for.  Let them know why you feel the need to quit, they may respond positively and keep your job as stated for the remainder of your assignment.  Thank them for giving you a chance; leave them with a good impression of you.  Immediately upon quitting contact your agency.  Tell them what happened with the job description.  Explain that you quit and you did so because the position or hours significantly changed, or the work area was unsafe…etc.  It is a violation of their contract to change a job description or hours without notifying the temporary agency of the job change. 

I feel kind of like Mary Poppins.  I never know where I will go or what I will be doing.   I go where the wind blows! 

If you are a temp, you know a temp, or you ever were one you can understand this feeling of impermanence but also some of the rewards of being part of something big in a time of need.