Vernaltide 1: The Internet

DIARY

Let's start with the internet.

Myself and two others have had internential crises in the last weekend, and they haven't been pretty.

Mine has probably been the most gentle of the three, and the worst was an absolute doozy. I don't feel at liberty to share the details of the others'; I only bring them up to illustrate the workings of the Law of Threes in our lives, that things change for the better and the worse when winter moves into spring, and to backhandedly suggest that we, as humans, are naturally lazy, and tend to take the collusion of opportunity and comfort for granted.

So yesterday was an exceptionally busy day at clinic, though the morning was relatively quiet. My supervisor approched me during one of these quiet periods and dropped the "I've been meaning to talk to you about your internet habits" bomb.

To a temp, this is an catastrophic way to begin any conversation... we're usually temping because we don't have a better career prospect immediately available. Temps in my position, that is, perennial temps, are in an awkward position of temping when they don't really want a permanent position, but need to squirrel away fund$ for a cheap summer in Flint, or at least the Next Big Thing.

At the same time, because our work relationships, interest in our job, and often, work ethic, are essentially superficial, the internet is our source of pleasure and hope. At its best, it's what keeps us from hating the day. At its best, it gives us a sense of purpose that mindlessly running tracks through HIPAA does not. For example, I know precious little about programming or graphic design, but I believe this blog looks pretty damn sweet. That isn't due to any natural finesse or vision on my part, but a obscenely large time investment.

Nor do I, or most temps, I believe, feel we are owed our internet binges between the phone calls and patients. Most of us would admit that there's something subversive and not on the level about our practice, and the most honest would admit that this has more to do with boredom and inertia than a cheerfully rebellious initiative (an initially cheerful rebellion?). Nor do I believe that, deep down, most of us don't feel a little dirty about the minutes and hours of what WalMart would term "time theft." But there it is: I do testify that the guilt, dessication of work-ethic, cessation of soul, and inevitable slouching in the rolo-chair are thoroughly worth it for the elimination of so many dreary minutes and hours ahead.

This is, by the way, a purely selfish thing. I've had the luxury of behaving this way largely because, so far, I've only been supporting myself very modestly. When I am married, things will have to be different. When I have children, things will have to be very different, and if they are not, then I will be guilty of grave irresponsibility.

* * * * *

Most of these comments are tangential, but they are all relevant.

I'm not writing to expose or confess, to wallow in clerical iniquity or justify or abstain... but I've gotten in the habit of candor with this blog. I pride myself on my honesty. I've agreed (most often) with the statement, "if you've done nothing wrong, then you've nothing to hide," and I share a lot of myself with the eighty or so people who hit this blog daily. In fact, I try to withhold information only when it's excessively personal, or at anothers' request.

The fact is, you deserve you know that your T-shirt was made in Bangladesh, and you deserve to know that most of these blog posts were written on time unknowingly subsidized by Advanced Resources and the Northwestern Memorial Faculty Foundation.
You deserve to know that if WalMart jacked the prices in T-shirts in the late 90s, it was because their "Made in the US" workforce was exposed as a bunch of Bengali children working in sweatshops, and you should know that if I cut back on posting in upcoming weeks, it's because I'm being more closely watched.
While you might like to believe that WalMart scales back their illegal work force (they have not) out of a sense of guilt and altruism, you should know that they would only do so for being caught. While you might like to believe that I recommit myself to the daily needs of RefractiveWare and IDXTend, you should know that I would only do so for being caught.

As Charles Wheelan asked and answered: Why did the chicken cross the road? To maximize its utility.

Most of us are corporate, obsessed with our personal bottom line. Those who are not are the true saints.

* * * * *

Since yesterday, RefractiveWare has been clean enough to lick tasty bytes from.

And, honestly, my boss was at my computer again this morning when my email was open, but didn't frown or sigh.

And, honestly, temps are a dime a dozen. I would've been replaced months ago if I wasn't a worthwhile employee.

And, honestly, this is a difficult line I find myself walking. I am proud of the work that I do, and I'm proud of doing good work at a job that often does not capture my interest or imagination. I'm punctual, reliable, resourceful, and will go the extra mile.

But no more bullshit. I'm not typing you a resumè. The blog you're reading is tainted.

Incidentally, today, after persistant phone calls, letters, and emails to the Agency, I finally received my fifty-cent-an-hour raise.

~ Connor