A Sense Of Betrayal

Tell you what: Being a temp is getting old.  It really is.

I can't help but feel that the end of my job with these guys, a job that I really liked (traffic excepted), came too abruptly.  But I have to face these facts: I was initially told by my agency that this job would end mid-January.  But before then, we were told that we would be extended by a month, and yes, we were given an exact date.  That date is Monday, and we have been told that that is indeed it.

Technically, then, the carpet has not been pulled out from under me.  But goddammit, it feels like it was.  We were not given any reminders that February 15 was indeed our last day from the time we were told that we would be sticking around for one more month till, um, Wednesday, when I told that authority figure in the break room I wasn't quite sure if I and these other two dudes I work with were done.  And I will parse things even further: I still have not heard someone who is above me say, "OK, Monday is your last day."  Someone wanted to check up on what work we have left to do, and people have been offering to pay lunch for us, so the signs that we are done soon are there.  But I'll be honest, I want one person to say something to the effect of "February 15 is your last day."  And I'm still waiting.

Losing my job, but especially with everybody pussy-footing around the issue, has turned my mood around in a bad way the past couple of days.  We have had a run of sunny days lately, and the days are noticeably getting longer, both in the morning when I leave for work and in the evening when I leave work.  Usually my body responds to that by waking up easier and me feeling more refreshed.  Instead, I, being depressed over my impending unemployment, loll around in bed while I check out my phone.  OK, I check it anyways, but I do so now for longer.  So despite my best intentions of getting up and driving to work earlier (I had passing thoughts that I could shift my time up a half-hour because the sun is really low on the horizon on my way to and from work, dangerously so), I in fact have been getting out to my car later and later.  Have to face facts: I'm depressed that I won't have work anymore, so I find it hard to get out of bed.

Been feeling a bit hostile during work, too.  People at work, even the authority figures I relied on to tell me when my last day really is, have been really nice.  And it is for that reason that I'm trying to control myself and not blurt out my real feelings, where I would go up to one of them and say, "You didn't tell me I was going to lose my job on Monday, liar!"  Because they might want me back next season, and I would proudly go back.  And I might still find a job there, and I don't need them bad-mouthing me about me losing my temper that one time.  I have things at stake, still; this isn't a case where I can just leave this job and not worry about burning any bridges just because I'm just a temp.

Yet I can't shake the sense of betrayal.  Every temp job begins a chain reaction of changes I have trouble adjusting to and from.  I no longer have to get up in the morning, but my body then has to adjust.  I have to watch my budget, get on the dole, start counting my money.  Then I try to look on the bright side (I'm doing it already right now) and get to work on doing the things I didn't have time for when I was gainfully employed.  And then I slowly get used to my life in "funemployment" -- until that point where the money starts running out.  I stop musing about permanent jobs that I want to do and just send out feelers for jobs that'll hire me, regardless of length of time.   Then, eventually/hopefully, I land a job ... but that entails readjusting my body clock to get up in the morning, then getting back into a routine of doing things during a workday.  And that doesn't take into consideration all the questions that make me anxious.  Will I like the job?  Will I like the people I work for and with?  Will I fall asleep?  Can I listen to the radio?  Can I just have lunch whenever?  And, most important of all, when will I lose this job?  And the temp cycle continues.  (I will say, however, that there is still that test scoring project that begins next month.  I can subsist on the government teat for a month if I have to.)

When I was the man I was two decades ago being a temp was fine because my priority was not getting tied down to a job I might grow to hate.  But I'm old now, and I now feel like I've paid my dues and am entitled to things like a salary and a flexible schedule.  Maybe being here for four months gave me a false sense of security, maybe even delusions that I was going to a "real" job.  How foolish of me.  But fuck, I'll be back on unemployment again, and they could have -- could have -- been more ... sensitive about it.  Losing a temp job is getting tiresome; not -- well, I'll just say it -- having my hand held while I'm losing it only makes things worse.