Don’t talk politics and don’t throw stones

I’m back in the same place I was in September and October, doing a somewhat similar although clearly different assignment for the same department at the same organization I temped at before. My first day back was bizarre, as I ran into everyone I had interacted with on a daily basis for a month and a half and they all had nice things to say to and about me. Far better than the opposite, but still strange.

After a half-week of training, I was back upstairs in or near my old office, working on menial tasks with the permanent employees, leaving a lot of time to talk and get to know one another–something I didn’t have the chance to do a few months ago. In some cases, this means venturing into the coworker zone of conversation, which can go from commonalites (“Hey, you like this thing I like!”) to the banal (“Yeah, I’m getting a haircut tomorrow.”) to the awkward disagreements (which I’m about to talk about).

Being a temp means being able to take a step back, away from any workplace drama, personal fallout, policy decisions or systemic issues. The phrase “I’m just a temp,” no matter how jokingly said, reverberate with a kind of freedom. One is still responsible for one’s actions, of course, and should take pride in any work done, but that lack of investment means often escaping office politics unscathed.

That sort of freedom can be nice, except when faced with working closely with someone at length–someone who, very occasionally, openly expresses an opinion I fundamentally disgaree with regarding an issue I care about. Then what? That veil of disconnection shackles my ability to express my opinion, my ability to get involved. Then it’s about sacrificing integrity, biting my tongue to preserve that nonchalance I enjoy.

And I leave work wondering if it’s a fair trade. «»

No, you actually can’t

Last call for most of D.C. on the night before the inauguration was four a.m. The metro opened up for inauguration day at four a.m. Obviously, there was some overlap of drunk people trying to get home and people trying to get into the city to stand on the Mall.

The first train through the Dupont Circle station on the notoriously crowded (on a regular day’s rush hour) red line was packed like sardines. People had obviously driven to places like Shady Grove and Rockville and boarded the metro to get into the city, which ws to be expected. This fact, however, did not deter drunk people who, as they started their attempt to squeeze into the train in defiance of physics, began to chant “Yes We Can.”

It was by far the best use of the phrase I have ever heard.

Here’s to an awesome January 20. «»

In the unlikely event of a water landing

The image conjured for me by those words is a 767 plunging nose-first into the Atlantic, at which point the “unlikely event” more appropriately refers to getting out of the plane alive.

But, sometimes, I guess a water landing isn’t so bad. «»

Week end

This is turning into a blog about my metro travel. I need to make a list of things I observe, and just post them all at once.

It’s the end of my first work week, and I leave the office, untuck my shirt, and roll up my sleeves. The walk isn’t terribly taxing, but it is long and with the humidity, I’m sweating by the time I reach the metro. So I look rough on this particular Friday afternoon, but I look like any 23-year-old who just came from a job that’s not particularly interesting and is ready for the week to be over. In the style of drunken Japanese businessmen in a karaoke bar, I suppose.

On the second half of my journey, I grab a seat on a train that quickly turns into standing-room only, and no one sits next to me. There’s a family who are exhausted after a full day of sightseeing and museum-going, and none of them are sitting next to me. There are fellow commuters not sitting next to me. There’s a dozen people standing within my line of sight, and for some reason, they do not want to sit next to me.

A man who sounded a lot like Tom Bodett was describing everything he could about New York City to a fellow commuter who was apparently on their way to there in the near future.

I got off at my stop and the video for the Pretenders “Back on the Chain Gang” popped in my head.

These observations and thoughts will be compiled and posted in distilled form from now on (hopefully). «»