Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Today I couldn't help but think back on how, in high school and college, the parents of whichever person I was dating loved me. LOVED. I never, ever had one problem getting along with the parents of a boyfriend. They always were great to me, particularly the boyfriends' moms, and I thought the world of them in return.

This is in direct contrast to the boyfriends themselves, most of whose behavior ran the gamut between not reciprocating my feelings (which, of itself, is no crime) to lying, cheating, and being verbally abusive.

To make a long story short, almost universally, the guys' parents held me in far higher esteem than the guys themselves. I used to joke with my friends that I wished I could meet someone who loved me as much as his parents did.

In the past three years since I entered the world of the temp workforce, I can't help but notice some parallels between my past experiences and now.

These days, it's the people I work directly with/for who love me. They think the world of my work and can't pay me enough compliments. Unfortunately, like the moms of the guys I dated, they're not the people who make the decisions. The higher-ups, with whom I have little or no contact, are the ones who see me as nothing more than an expense that needs to be trimmed as soon as humanly possible. They're also the ones who have the final say in how long I remain at a given assignment.

I won't be getting the job that opened up in this department. It was filled by someone else from another department in this company. I do, however, plan to apply for the opening that THAT person's transfer will create, as soon as they begin accepting resumes in a few days.

I also applied for that opening in Karla's department a few weeks ago. But as I understand they've already begun interviewing for it, and I haven't had so much as an acknowledgement that my resume was received, I have no illusions about how slim my chances are to get that job. I'm not holding my breath.

The way things stand now, I will definitely be here for a few more weeks, for at least as long as it takes for the new person to train her replacement in her old department, and to get trained in the new job here. I'm not sure how long the transition will last.

After that, MAYBE they'll be able to hang onto me by evaluating, on an every-two-weeks basis, whether my services are still required.

Otherwise, just call me "Dead Temp Walking". Because right now, that's how I feel.

God, I'm so, so tired of fighting this battle. When does it end?

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