Exploration

A Day in the Life

I am a temp.

That's short for temporary employee, discardable asset, contracted word processor, etc.

I used to be a "writer." That is, I used to go around telling everyone I was a writer. After all, I had written a couple of novels that were published, appeared in numerous magazines, and been an inspiration for many other writers through the magazine and writers' newsletter I published.

Problem is I plain ran out of time.

You know how it is. You go through the mantra, "I want to write," and "I am a writer." I did. I'd go to my day job and dream of getting home to write in the evening. I'd dream of days where I could do nothing but write. I researched the markets, sent out submissions, and hit the jackpot a few times. But as time went on and I got busier and busier, I found myself in that coveted spot at home, staring at the computer monitor, feeling as blank as it was.

I am a writer. . .

I went to conventions. I talked to other writers. I did the seminars, read the books, flipped through the magazines, and just about stood on my head to capture the "secret" of being a writer. Of having the energy to write when I needed it. Of writing on command. Of being brilliant and productive.

But I couldn't do it.

Who was I fooling? I wasn't a writer. I wondered if I could ever write again! I was so busy with mundane life that I forgot the glories of being a writer who was paid in copies and pennies and a few dollars, but most importantly in the richness of a byline and the responses of the audience I reached.

I needed a change in my life.

So, I did what all frustrated artists should do: I quit my day job. Okay, not really. I mean that I actually did quit the job I'd held for six years in favor of doing temporary/contract work. I needed something new. New faces, new duties, new income. A fresh start.

I got it, too. The market for temporaries fluctuates, so I have lots and lots of time off. To write. Oh, and even better—at some temporary jobs (and this is the god's honest truth) the employer has so little for me to do that I have hours to write on their computers. To WRITE!!

Here I was, a failure as a "writer," having time to write as a temp! Weird, huh? I suppose that makes me a failure as a temp, but I have no more headaches about having too little writing time after work. No more writer's block because of the pressure, the insane PRESSURE, to perform. After all, I'm not a writer anymore.

I'm writing this article "on the job," by the way.

I am a temp . . . I am a temp . . . I am a temp . . .

FINIS

L.J. Bothell is a graphic designer/writer with marketing communications emphasis who lives and temps/freelances in Seattle, Washington. Questions? Contact info@bastmedia.com.