Temping feels right. Not good right, but appropriate. Like: it is right for a leaf to be attached to the branch of a tree, fluttering in the breeze and soaking in sunlight. But it is also right for a leaf to be stuck in a storm drain.
Matthew has two part-time temp jobs, neither of which could be mistaken for rewarding work. The money he makes isn't even close to enough to pay his bills, but the income at least keeps him from digging so deep into his savings as he continues to go on fruitless interviews at places he'd prefer to be employed. Plus it gets him out of the house. Interestingly, it also provides a boost to his self worth to directly charge people for his time.
"My emails aren't sending," says Bob, Matthew's part-time temporary half-boss, and it's no surprise. Bob's Outlook Inbox has 45,000 unread messages from the years 2009-2015 (and the program crashes when it tries to calculate how many messages there are total). It takes Bob's computer a full minute to select the farthest-back email from August 2009 (Subject line: "Test", no body). Matthew deletes it, and thinks about leaves stuck in storm drains. Maybe they're grateful to not be in the sewer.
"I can fix this," Matthew says with a smile. "But first you need to sign my time sheet."
My mother has a lot of questions. No, I'm not gay. No, I don't want to be a woman. No, I am not interested in transitioning. Yes, my wife knows.…
Wow, is my first thought, it's so light. The next is, there's no way this is going to fit. The weirdest thing about what's happening is that…
I t's a rainy midday and Matthew sits in his car in an empty parking lot, reading old journal entries on his phone. "I was such a petulant,…