This morning was surreal. I emerged from the subway and looked around. There were people everywhere wearing suits, and skirts, and real shoes. I couldn’t spot a single backpack. Not one pajama-clad soul to be seen. Also, these well-dressed, sensibly shoed people all appeared to be around my age. Some were older. En masse, they surged toward the towers of the finanical district. I joined them. For the first time, I think, ever, I entered one of those towers. Today I began my journey as a temp.
At the end of every spring semester (and yes, my school is indeed out for summer), I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s the “oh shit” feeling. I look at the empty days and weeks and months ahead on my calendar and recognize the symptoms of anxiety: face tensed, toes tingle, teeth grind.
The summer anxiety is difficult to explain to people outside of the academy. The first thing that many say when I first tell them that I teach is, “oh, you must love having the summers off.” And yes, in many ways I do. I love having time to myself. I would love it more if I got paid.
I hate to say it, but money is really what it comes down to. I make a decent salary, but I also live in one of the most expensive cities in the United States. I can save up all year to get through the 2 months I don’t teach, but sometimes that isn’t even enough. Then, I’m faced with the ultimate smack in the face: to be full of free time but empty of pocket in an endlessly entertaining city.
This summer, I’ve decided to be proactive about the whole situation. I don’t have the constitution for food service or retail and otherwise it is hard to find short-term, part-time, flexible employment. So I’ve decided to temp. Not only will it help with the whole money and boredom thing, but I’ve also been thinking recently that someday in the distant future I might want to work somewhere besides academia (another post, another time).
I’m actually on my first assignment right now. Like, literally. Right. Now.
I have to say, it’s like a dream. I’m sitting in a beautiful office. It’s all wood-paneled, marble counter-topped, leather-furnitured, and glass-walled. People are extremely polite. They are dressed very nice. There are snacks for the taking in the break room. Just look at the picture at the top of this post: that’s a bowl of candy and some fuzzy plant-like things. For lunch, I walked just a few blocks to the park and ate lunch on a bench. It was lovely.
The best part? My only responsibility seems to be answering the phone. It has rang maybe 5 times. I’ve had the most productive day. Inspired by misskrg, I spent the morning setting my summer goals. I graded a few stray papers. I looked up funding opportunities for a new project. I did preliminary research on another.
I have to say, this is what I always imagined my life would be like after graduate school. My degree is in creative writing and I always thought I would just get some simple, stress-free job that would let me focus on other projects. My friends keep asking me about my temp job, are you bored? No. Not at all. I could entertain myself endlessly…I think.
But, I guess its easy to get all romantic about a job that will end in about 24 hours. I’m
exhausted and drained from the academic year and it’s fun to pretend to be someone else for a day or so. I even wore my best “Joan” (from Mad Men) dress today to really get into the part. (It really looks like this bright pink number!) Am I going to leave the university to pursue a career in answering phones, making coffee, and setting appointments. No. Am I going to fantasize about doing so? Yes. Yes I am.
That panic certainly hits home for me. Two summers ago, I was an adjunct with enough work in the first summer session but not in the second. Last summer (LONG story), I didn’t get paid for a couple months…though I was working. Told you, long story. It was one of the most awful things that’s ever happened to me. I switched to a different department, but if there aren’t enough students, I won’t have work. It’s the biggest reason I’m ready to leave teaching. I’ll be brutally honest, if I were married, it probably wouldn’t be such a big deal. Single? It’s a big freaking deal. I’m tired of the worry. I’m tired of not being able to enjoy anything because I have no money.
I worked in a law firm for nearly 7 years, and though it was incredibly stressful at times, I got paid really well, especially since I was an undergrad and then grad student working there. I made as much at 22 as I’m making 9 years later. It’s pretty soul crushing. [Sorry this comment's negative, but it's something that's been weighing on me.] I hope the temping continues to go well. Love the Mad Men dress.
Jenn, no worries about the negative vibe! Honestly, I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks these things.
A couple weeks ago, during one of my yoga classes, a fellow yogini asked our teacher, “I feel such a big difference between when I’m in here and when I’m at work. Does that ever go away?”
The teacher (who I adore for being so real, no ethereal wispy vibe, just a dude who loves yoga) responded by saying, “That’s the process. I mean, I feel it too. Sometimes I think, ‘I teach yoga’ what do I have to be stressed about!?!”
I found that so relieving, which my teacher didn’t understand. He said, “shouldn’t you be asking for your money back? I mean, if it doesn’t work for me…” But what I liked was that it seemed to reconfirm the old cliche about the grass and the greenness. I think that we tend to create stress in our own lives much of the time.
BUT…I think that we have it rough. Like my yoga teacher, we have jobs that don’t look very “job-like” from the outside and many out there have no idea how the academy works (or more often, doesn’t work).
For now, I am super happy with my job. I would be stupid not to be. I’m young and full-time faculty with benefits for crying out loud! I just can’t help but thinking….someday…