I have a temp job right now. When folks ask what I am doing with myself during the day, I reply, "Oh, well it's a temp job..." just so they know it wasn't my life's ambition to graduate with my degree in English teaching and French to work at a company filing and labeling incessantly for hours and hours daily. I call it "grunt" or "slug" work. At any rate - although this job IS (so help me heaven) a temp job, I've found little bits and pieces of things to entertain me along the way - just temporarily of course. I work with Giants mostly. Have you ever worked with Giants? It's rather interesting. They're not mean and dim-witted (well, not AS dim-witted) as you may think. Rather, they are slow, lumbering, and quite large. You may think of Giants in fairy tales as being rather tall, strong, and menacing. This is a misconception. Giants are actually, most of them, wider than they are taller. These are the kind of giants I speak of. And generally, and contrary to popular fairy tale belief, they are mostly women. Huge, lumbering, gigantic women. Picture if you will, a wee girl about 5'1 and 110 lbs. Do you have her? Excellent. She's not wafey or mousy or anything but rail thin, but is rather small, like an adult elf or perhaps a furry footed Hobbit. Imagine this rather small person trying to bypass, avoid, and generally get by in a narrow (to some) halls while sharing them with these lumbering creatures. Honestly, the little elf was rather thrown into a shock when she realized how many Giants this company actually employs - as if it's a "Giants need work too" or "Tired of having to get up from your chair?" or even "Wouldn't you just rather sleep, sit, and snack your life away?" kind of campaign. Usually, there is the one token "Giantess" in the company, 3rd grade class, or church gathering, and everyone else is of rather human proportions. This company, however, has made it a point to ensure most of it's employees are, in point of fact, Giants! I walked in on one of their "feedings" (is that horrible? Kindof) and was shocked to see 4 Giants sitting at a long table eating their large platters of Mexican Cuisine and jabbering happily. Really ladies? Everyday? They're all rather nice though - and bring lots of treats and baked goods for everyone. So, although maneuvering around them is rather painstaking and sometimes down right dangerous, they do mean well.
Aside from Giants, I do run into the occasional Pirate. These, ALSO contrary to popular belief, seem to be mostly female. I guess we'd call them Wenches, although I think Wenches work there too and are very distinct from the scaly wags I speak of. There is one particular pirate who sports the shriveled and sunken lips, overhanging nose, and squint eyes that make you want to yell "Avast ye scurvy dog!" I've not had the pleasure of interacting with my hook handed (no not really) friend, but if I ever do, I will make sure to batten down the hatches, and groom my pet "shoulder parrot" first. Watch your eyes! Their beaks are sharp! Yar!
Lastly, there's the crazy's. Okay, there's one crazy. Crazy's come in varities. I lived with a crazy once - she was the "clean the house as a metaphor for cleaning my whacked out life" and "everything I say is more embellished and embossed than the Queen's Royal Dinner invitations" kind of crazy. Whistle - she crazy. There's also the crazy's who you don't think are crazy, until they say something like "Yeah, my mom made me throw out my collection of belly button lint I've been saving my entire life the other day. What's up with that?" or "It's the governments fault I am unemployed and lazy. It's a conspiracy to keep me from being King of the Universe!" (I'm related to this one - Beware!). The kind of crazy at my work is the "mumbling incoherently to herself and using sweeping hand gestures as she walks down the hall or sits at lunch" kind of crazy. It's like, half the conversation takes place in her head, and the other half slips out her mouth. We all are caught in deep thought, sometimes murmuring a little under our breath, but this crazy individual tends to do it constantly, without jumping in embarrassment and looking around to see if anyone saw her doing it like most of us would rightly do. In fact, I really don't think she KNOWS she's doing it at all. Before lunch, she takes deep calming breaths and continues to mutter, her bulging toady eyes widely open and her tiny little skinny arms (yes, she is the token stick thin girl at work) thrashing about. It's soooooo strange!
So at any rate - I am at a temp job. I think I mentioned that. And although it's not really in line with, ya know, my Bachelors degree I painstakingly took 4 long years to acquire, or my future goals of one day becoming a snobbish Professor of English (don't check my grammar - it's impeccable and you'd waste your time...no really, dont' check) at a posh boarding school in London, still, it does allow for some entertainment and a right good story now and again!