Back to Work

This blog was always meant to be a place where I could regale you all with tales of my misadventures with various jobs--and serve as a means of killing time till the clock ticks down to 5:00pm. It's been a while since I've had a real job, but that shouldn't stop me from telling you about my fake jobs, now, should it?

"Temping" - Day Two

That's day two of 28. And Lawd, Lawd, Lawd...I don't know if I'm going to make it this time.

For all of you who think sitting around in the buff, the altogether, the 'casual Friday', the birthday suit is easy work, explain to me why there was a trickle of sweat running down my brow at the "office" this morning and why I'm about to apply some Icy Hot to my aching back and neck.

I was nervous about yesterday. Setting the pose. I remembered the last time. It was a three week gig with these folks. Now, understand, they're great people. Very friendly, very talented...you don't feel like you're sitting up there for a bunch of hacks. These people are artists--er--businessmen.

But by the end of the three weeks, I was having to resort to the old tried-and-true P.O.W. torture distraction techniques to keep from losing my mind. Sitting on a stool shouldn't be difficult. But dang. DANG! IT IS!

I knew whatever pose we went with, there was a chance it was going to turn into something very painful by the third week. I would insist upon something simple. Something that didn't involve me putting my bare foot on the crossbar of the stool or craning my neck up and to the right with my left shoulder tilted downward and my body facing counter clockwise.

Also, as an important side note, I have to say the cast of 300 2 had better watch out. If you thought my abs were hott in Midsummer, then...gaw! I punched up my routine in the past two weeks and...gaw! Even I'm shocked by the results. I'm almost embarassed by how hot my abs are.

What's that you're saying? Something about pride? Something about fall? Oh, why yes. I love autumn. The changing leaves... Thanksgiving... So cozy. Mmm.

They start to set the pose.

"Could you turn to the right?"

"More right."

"More right."

"More right."

"More--wait! That's perfect!"

42nd Floorers, they're painting...my back.