I feel like a corporate brat. I never applied for a job and yet here I am, busily typing away at a work station. And this isn’t even my own. Last week, I used the CEO’s desk and personal computer. That felt so surreal. It was fun swiveling around in the nicest chair in the office, writing, or checking my mail every now and then or playing solitaire or free cell or Barbie. Then this week, I decided that playing CEO is too much and I transferred myself to another station. Fortunately, the person whose computer I am using is on leave and I have free access to her unit. Desk and all [and oh, her computer is DSL connected, yey me!].
I don’t have a schedule. I don’t even have a time card. My resume is not required [but I chose to submit one anyway]. I can leave the office any time. Come here anytime [but work ethics tells me that I should at least come early]. I revise my work only when they tell me to and that after so many days. I think this is freelance but I’m told to come to the office everyday. I like coming here because they have DSL. I’m cool with the set up.
What my job description is, I dun no. All I know is that I write and moonlight at events. And check my mail. And uphold beauty. And play solitaire. And pester my bosses every now and then.
At least I get to wear heels and feel mature- like a working girl. And I don’t have to don a uniform. Someday, I hope. Green is the new black diba? Hehe.
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