Money Makes The World Go Round

When you are a temp you've been called in for one of two reasons:

1. The Executive needs to maintain a certain appearance within the culture - "I cannot function without assistance.  I'm too busy for little things, I have a spa appointment at 2p."  On these assignments I usually answer the phone a few times and spend most of my day writing blogs as there is literally nothing for me to tangibly do.  I am set dressing.  I wonder how many novels have been written at certain Executive Admins' desks... or should be. 

OR

2. The Executive is a highly skilled, highly experienced, highly respected individual with savant dedication and talent.  Without help, he/she would drown - "I have an overseas conference call at 8am, a power-point presentation to dispense at 8:30a and somewhere in between I have to get a memo out to The Board about next year's predictions.  I don't have time to eat much-less figure out how to plug in my laptop."  As a temp, I love these experiences.  I feel valued and love the challenge of walking into the chaos with a cool hand.  On these assignments, I'm the bomb squad.

Last Monday, when I walked into the cubicle of where I was assigned I thought, "This looks like triage."  Excellent!  Executive Number 2!  No one had time to explain protocol.  My help, any help was welcome.  Every single person I came in contact with was vibrating with a mission.  It was obvious they not only had a lot to do, but they enjoyed doing it - the way you enjoy painting a room... before the in-laws show up, tomorrow.  

I am 37.  Three years ago I decided to leave the acting business.  I still don't know what to tell people at parties when they ask me what I do.  "Freelance... Human?"  Most of my NYC 'day jobs' have been in offices and since I quit seeking a real acting career, most of my resume shows me sitting behind a desk... many times.  A Career Placement Councilor once told me I was a "Job Hopper".  I explained I was an actor.  She didn't even blink, "Same thing." 

Earlier this year, I happily, ecstatically got married to the yin to my yang.  We plan to start a family in two years after he figures out what he wants to tell people he does for money.  He's an artist.  We are attempting to define our own realities including the future of our family.  We're trying not to feel latent.  We need more Vitamin B.

I think everyone wants to love their job.  But earning money is often... unhappy work.  I'm lucky to have experienced so many kinds of jobs while searching for a meaningful existence.  Whenever my 'day job' spilled into my 'life', my close friends, who observed my tendencies towards total collaborative emersion, would remind me that for artists, earning money is just a 'means to an end.'  

This notion has always intensely bothered me.  I can meditate.  I can find hobbies.  I can find reasons to sacrifice.  I can try to be awake and aware and enjoy my daily tasks regardless of what I'm doing.  I'm alive aren't I?  But honestly, if I have the choice, why would I spend 8 to 12 to 16 hours of every day doing something I don't enjoy?  Why do we take this Revolutionary Road?  Is our system for organizing life prioritized so deadly we've forgotten the mystery?  We don't know why we are here, why be here in dread?  Are we just collecting paychecks for the future?  What if we don't make it to the future?

Temping is a good way for me to make decent cash and not have to label myself.  I change my mind too much and I like costumes.  I'm lucky that one of my best friends works for a staffing company.

My step mother told me to tell people I'm an artist.  I told her I didn't feel like one yet.  She said to tell people I was a photographer.  I told her that was a big, fat, giant lie.  And besides I don't want anyone to pay me for my hobby.  Then I have to act like I know what I'm doing.  She said to say I'm a "1099er".  I'll use it.

Until I have the guts to say I'm a writer.

You say you want a revolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out
Don't you know it's gonna be all right
all right, all right 
-The Beatles