On Monday I reported that I had found a job at American Express (Amex) through a temporary employment agency. Yesterday morning I went and took all the necessary tests (grammar, basic Windows knowledge, drug, and typing—on which I scored 73 wpm with no errors!) and filled out all the necessary forms to make my employment official. I even stopped by the American Express building to have my photo taken for my temporary work badge. I was all set.
Meanwhile, I had contacted my previous employer (let’s call them “The Paper”) earlier in the week and asked if they had any temporary positions available. I had never known them to use temporary employees, but I figured I’d cover all my bases. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, and I was fairly certain that, if something did miraculously arise, the work schedule would not be as ideal as the one offered by Amex. So although I was still waiting to hear back from The Paper, I more or less put them out of my mind.
As it turns out, The Paper is fairly eager to have me back. They have offered me a schedule almost identical to Amex, but I’ll never have to work weekends. And they’ll take me back at the pay rate I had when I originally left the company in October 2004, which is $1.70 more per hour than I’d get at Amex. That’s rather significant. Needless to say I have accepted their offer and will begin working with them on Tuesday or Wednesday.
I’m thrilled by this. I didn’t realize how much I dreaded my return to Amex until I knew I wouldn’t be returning. The relief I feel is surprisingly grand. As I’ve gone to the American Express building a couple of times this week, I’ve been filled with this sad realization that this part of my distant past is being resurrected. Not that I hated Amex, but they feel so removed from my psyche that I really want it to stay that way. It may sound silly, but I feel totally refreshed knowing the memory of it can totally rest in peace. I just don’t want to feel like I’m going back in time—not that far, anyway.
While it’s been a year and a half since I’ve worked for The Paper, it doesn’t seem quite as psychologically archaic. And I know I’ll be doing the exact same job I was doing before, so I’ll adapt very easily and be immediately comfortable with my co-workers, many of whom I’ll already know. I finally feel at ease and ready to enjoy the summer for what it is, something I’ve been struggling with as I’ve prepared for Amex. I’ll still be working, of course, but I won’t have the anxiety of learning a new job or meeting new people. So, once I put in my eight hours and punch out on the time clock, I’m done, physically and mentally. Everyday at 2:30 p.m., it’s summertime. No Greek, no Latin, no deadlines, no 20-page essays. Why, the future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades…