Another day sitting at a desk with my headset on, vaguely aware that I’m speaking to members of the public about late payment charges. Today is ‘dress down Friday’ so at least there are ladies in flattering clothes to secretly gawp at. And, as every Friday, there is “Temps’ Lunch” at Office Angels. As ever I pick up some food (bagels) and my payslip (always surprisingly small) and sit down to eat the former and study the latter to discover the secret code. As always, there are other people there chatting, new temps who still find the job in some way interesting. I feel like I should chat to them for some reason, but really don’t want to speak to anybody if possible. It’s something that happens when your job consists of chatting to people and pretending to be friendly all day – for lunch you just want to speak to as few people as possible. Why should I be friendly anyway? Not like there’s a law, and not like I’m actually being hostile anyway. Bah, I don’t need excuses.
After food I listen to Michael Howard not getting the roasting he deserves on Radio 4, then get back to the office with 15 minutes of break left, which equals one cup of machine tea and two strawberry and kiwi flavour sparkling water.

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2 Responses to

  1. since my hsbc/pricewaterhouse coopers horror i have vowed never to work somewhere that has a vending machine for drinks. although i like their chocolate espresso the tea is foul and the whole idea makes the invironment even more sterile. i like offices where the bos has a comedy mug that says something like “i am the boss and i am a cunt” or whatever.

    • Nah, the machine is alright, to be fair. The tea is somehow real due to the miracle of technology. Maybe I’ve just got an office festish or something, though.

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