Katy Can Work

I got a job. Sort of. Well, for the time being. And though the temp agency will be taking a find bite out of paycheck each week, I got the job without their help. I called them, reminded them that I would be fine for the admin position at (insert major wireless phone company here). They said (company) wanted someone with more marketing experience, but that they'd send my resume. Two hours later they wanted to set up an interview. At said interview, main boss guy said repeatedly how overqualified I was for the position. While I was flattered, I couldn't help but think how I was still applying for a temporary secretarial job--overqualified or not--and really, really needed it. Even though it doesn't include benefits.

In the hour-long interview, he asked only two questions. I had spent the night before actually preparing for this interview, having the boy ask me questions, thinking about answers, etc. Things I never do for interviews. All for not. The rest of the time was spent describing the company, the marketing department, the pregnant woman I'd replace. He told me he had another interview that afternoon.

So I got the job. Thursday, when I started, boss guy called me into his office. (Oh, this was after I got a fine tour and an ID badge to wear around the neck. I've always wanted one of those.) He told me there was never a doubt that he would hire me. He told me he shared my resume with his boss, that they both felt I could be doing more than answering phones and filing invoices. "I want you to do some writing and editing for us," he told me. Sweet.

For the next three hours I filed invoices. But in the afternoon he gave me new product brochures they were working on. "Can you look these over?" he asked. I was elated to find comma splices, incomplete sentences, things I could point to and say "this could be written better."

The morning of day two was less exciting. From the hours of 8 to 11, I sat there. Literally. In a chair, stairing at the walls of another woman's cubile. I sat there. People would walk by, give me sympathetic looks because they couldn't even offer me a filing job. I walked to the break room and got more coffee. Twice. I went to the bathroom. Twice. I thought about how this was still better than sitting at home doing nothing and not getting paid for it. In the afternoon, boss guy asked me to edit the website. The one that had already been up for days. I found countless spelling errors and sentences that never really ended or came to a point. When I showed these corrections to boss guy, I could tell he was not happy. Later I heard he chewing some guy out.

Best part of the job? The boss guy sounds just like Anskov. In a crazy way. Sometimes I ask him questions just to hear him talk more. That's how much I miss you, Matty. (Have an awesome time in India, BTW.)