Temp Job, we finished up yesterday. This makes me all sorts of happy in that the assignment was easily one of the most boring things I have ever had to do.

My new task? Taking all those thousands of binders, binders that have been subsequently recoded, and tearing off the tabs on the front covers. And that's your Giants replay.

Imagine doing that for a little over seven hours. Just sitting there, tearing tabs. Pretty exciting, n'est pas? I think, after all these temp jobs, all these bouts of unemployment, I might have finally achieved it. That being, the Most Boring Temp Job Ever.

And that's saying a lot. It might even, in some ways, be the Worst Temp Job Ever. That's saying a whole lot. The only thing that could possibly compare was this temp job I had right after school in which I sat at this table counting up to 100 wine labels and then banding them together and putting them in a box. There were six of us around this one table but we had only one chair so everyone had a total of ten minutes to sit on the chair and when the ten minutes were up, we'd pass it on over to the person next to us. Anyways, while the crappiness of the temp job would normally put me into some sort of alcoholic, "my life sucks" stupor but not this time.

And the reason? A couple of days ago I e-mailed my boss-to-be just to check in on things to see when I'd have to deal with all the paper work. No, this story's not going anywhere, but I just like saying the words "my boss." It's like being able to say "my girlfriend" for the first few times. Or "new tongue stud."

Kind of ironic, actually considering what happened with me and my old boss. The funny thing about the job is that when I started, the Temp Agency told me it could turn into a long term thing. All I had to do was get in there, show them that I had the skills to pay the bills, and they'd keep me on. But just what kind of skills would I be showing them that would make them want to keep me? Tab tearing? Filing?

What-ever.

PS- Today we were a tab-pullin' when I noticed that there was this huge gap between in the order of tabs that we had pulled. The result of which was that people (there's about four other people working with me) were putting their bundle of tabs all over the table. This wasn't good. So, for some strange reason, I took the tabs by the horn as it were, figured out where everything was, and put it all together again. I then took over things and started marking up boxes, putting them away, and keeping tabs on all the tabs. I took charge of the situation. In fact, I am now "take charge guy" between the four temps. Yes me.

What the hell?

PPS- Two of the women I work with are black. Excuse, "Temps of Color." One of them was the one who was holding things up by being a bit slow tearing the tabs off. When I checked in with her, I jokingly told her about how she was messing everything up and now everything was a big huge mess. This got a laugh out of the both them, especially the other Temp of Color who listens to me bitch all day about how bored I am. So she jokingly calls me a "slave driver."

Now I am white. They are, as I said, Temps of Color. Was calling me a "slave driver" harmless, a figure of speech that we all would use? Was she merely just being post-PC, post "I Have a Dream"? Or was it meant to sound like that, but was it secretly some sort of coded message between the two of them in which I had basically been dissed and dissed big time?

PPS- Just for old times sake, bite me Jenna.