I'm a Temp in Maidenhead

Before I start, I'd just like to speak to all those people in the tube or subway that swing their arms unnecessarily far behind them when they walk:

STOP IT!

and,

I hate you.

Latest news from me thus, am temping in and around Maidenhead offices as a receptionist. Seeeexxxxy.

As a new female in the office environment, I generate some amount of curiosity (from older men) who like to lean against the front desk where I operate and ask me where in Canada I'm from. One visiting Royal Mail Associate went so far as to peer over the desk, scan my figure and ask me how many times I go to the gym because I'm so very thin.

We are now dating.

So my job. It consists of picking up the phone and answering it and then transferring calls, oh and asking the callers their names and what company they are calling from.

I also do mail and filing.

All the companies are amazed with the rapidity with which I pick up information and by the professionalism of my phone manner. I considered doing the English "sing song" voice as an inside joke with myself but didn't for fear that it would kill the part of my brain that controls dancing.

I am an expert filer. I read labels and then slot papers into the appropriate pigeon holes that are also labelled.

I'm like, the smartest person to have temped in these places as evidenced by the caliber of temp I have encountered on my various job placements.

Sample Temp (sharing reception desk with me): "Dis job is well easy cuz they leave you alone innit but I 'ate doin' mail (pronounced mayew) cuz all de names are foreign. So where you from then, Maiden'ead?"

Me: "Canada"

Sample Temp: "Right."

This will kill the conversation.

Usually, I will be alone at the receptionist desk (like now) with no phone ringing ever and no one bothering me so I'm literally getting paid to write and read The New Yorker online. Highbrow.

Less highbrow is the webcam of the southern French beach I check at regular intervals to see if I can spot the adonis I'm convinced is my townie destiny. It reeks of stalkerism. I am also checking the weather conditions and picturing my life as it will be in a few weeks time.

The projection of my life in a few weeks time goes as follows:

-Wake up around 8am, yoga to bossa nova followed by granola consumption.
-Pack bag for beach and sit on terrace contemplating sea view.
-Go to beach 11am. Tan. Read. Swim. Reflect. Hydrate. Stare at the adonis walking out of the water, possibly establish contact. Drink rose at beach bar with Alex, Pierre and Simon that work there.
-Walk home around 7pm. Shower, dinner, sit at terrace, write showstopping prose and discover meaning of life.

Current reality sees me sitting behind a desk answering calls about needle extensions from multiple sclerosis nurses called John.

your fan,

a.