Assignment’s over

Today my supervisor at my latest temp job told me my assignment was over.  Not that she wanted to let me go, mind; everyone there seems to think I’ve been a good, helpful, and useful employee—but when they run out of work, there’s simply no way they can keep me on.

Truly, I’m not so sorry to be done. The job was a $12-an-hour receptionist and file clerk gig, not even 40 hours a week, and I was horribly under-employed doing what they needed to have done.  (They’d intended to use me 25 hours a week only, and to be done in one week, or perhaps two.)  Instead, they gave me 34 hours weekly and spun the assignment out to three weeks because I was doing them a good job and they liked me.  Mind, they were nice people and quite civil to me—but I was bored half to tears with the pure-dee mindlessness of the work, and there wasn’t a thing to be done about that, not to mention they were hard put to find enough work to keep me busy, because I don’t dawdle around when I’m working, and was finishing assignments in a few minutes which I expect they were thinking I’d take an hour or so over.

Now I have to scare something up for next week, and the gods know what that will be—or if it’ll be anything at all, no better than conditions are here.  I did tell my supervisor I’d be obliged if she passed the word around among other divisions of the agency that I was (1) good, and (2) available. Maybe it’ll produce something a little less stultifying next time.