Adventures in Temping

The past two years have been a whirlwind. In early 2007, I quit my steady job to pursue a career in comedy writing. Landing such a job requires writing sample scripts of sitcoms currently on TV, and then getting the script to the right person - usually the "showrunner" or head writer of a tv series - the only person who can do the hiring. I had been told that I would have a great advantage as a female and ethnic person. Comedy is one of the only industries still dominated by white males, typically from Harvard. Therefore, being a half-Asian female who attended Stanford, I was considered a minority who would round out a staff.

I had no qualms about quitting my job with a few grand in the bank with no back up plan. Since I am extremely smart and extremely funny, I figured it would be a year max before I landed a comedy writing job. After all, I had moved to L.A. after college and made some connections. Not showrunners, but revered comedy writers nonetheless. I had been quite successful at various endeavors from a young age - always a step ahead of where I should have been. In the first grade, I did second grade math. In the sixth grade, I got bumped up to the 7th/8th grade orchestra. The 8th grade I skipped entirely.

It turned out, though, that it wasn't very easy to land a comedy writing job as a half-asian female from Stanford with several writing samples of professional quality. When I decided to quit my job, either I didn't notice there were very few sitcoms left on the air (replaced these days by shows like "Deal or No Deal"), or I was just so sure of my own talent that I didn't care that there were hundreds of out of work comedy writers with credits like "Seinfeld" and "Friends" to their name.

By January of 2008, I ran out of money and was forced to take on odd jobs through a temp agency. At first, I took on mindless office work. Later, I ended up working in an assembly line at Pepperidge Farm making $12/hour. I was told by the temp agency that the pay was not great, but that I would find the job fun and exciting - not the typical office work. I figured it would have to be something mildly clerical - it is an OFFICE after all. When I arrived, I was informed I would be spending the day measuring and weighing "sticky buns" (_cinnamon rolls_), frozen and thawed. The kicker - my two colleagues were mentally disabled. Literally - sub 75 IQ. So disabled that they had to live with their parents. When the supervisor set us up for the morning, she suggested that I do the easy job of placing the sticky buns on the automatic scale, since this was my first time at the job. She would leave the more complicated measuring process to the other woman, and have the man record the numbers onto a chart. Nevermind the fact that I had graduated first in my high school class, or that the three of us splitting up duties in such a manner was slower than me doing the entire process myself. I went with her plan and spent eight hours silently putting sticky frozen pastries onto a scale.

I just sat there with my thoughts, stewing about how my life had hit a new low, and as bad as I needed eighty bucks post tax, I didn't need it so bad as to be measuring sticky buns with not ONE but TWO mentally challenged people,where I was the odd man out. What was the temp agency trying to tell me? Had they seen my resume? They thought I would "love" this job and have "so much fun?" The other two temps certainly were thrilled. They were really into the perk of eating the sticky buns after we measured them. They sucked up to the supervisor, hoping to land full-time jobs.

Up to that point, I sometimes enjoyed temping because it allowed me to be someone other than myself for a day - I revelled in the idea of feeling invisible - of no one around me knowing a detail about my life. A few weeks prior, I had worked for a shipping company. The office was so pleased with my sorting and filing abilities that they gave me bottles of wine and took me out to expensive lunches ("bet you can't afford this with your salary! eat up!"). They even offered me a full-time admin job and insisted several times that I take it -no interview, no resume. All based on my extraordinary filing skills. I felt guilty, like an impostor embezzling their money and goodwill. Yes, I was a temp and yes I needed the $80/day after taxes temporarily, but I didn't need that first leg up in the working world. I was broke by choice - taking day jobs so I could devote my time to writing scripts and one day become the creative force I had envisioned myself to be.

Now, it's been almost a year since that job at Pepperidge Farm. The second half of '08 was more fruitful professionally. I finally did land a stint writing comedy for an animated show. But I find myself entering the New Year totally unemployed (by choice) and perhaps eight weeks away from another Pepperidge Farm-esque experience. All of this, I suffer through in order to keep my days free and devoted to my writing. Someone said to me that this is the story that will be told when I make it big.