A Day In the Life of a Writer, i.e. Underpaid Temp (Part 3)

Continued from yesterday’s A Day In the Life of a Writer, i.e. Film & TV Extra (Part 2).

If you accidentally (because what other excuse could there be?) missed my last two blogs, here is the Cliff’s Notes version of my opener: I am a writer, which means that I am a freelance ESL tutor, a film and TV “background artist”, an underpaid office temp, a panhandler and, every once in a while, a writer.

Today’s installment: underpaid temp.

I work temp jobs because I happen to be very good at picking up a phone and speaking into it, not to mention alphabetizing correctly and showing up on time. No joke: I can’t tell you how many times I have been thanked  at the end of the day from my supervisor for doing such a "fantastic job!" And when I say, “You do know a monkey could do this job?” they look at me with wide, frightened eyes, grab on to my arm, and tell me, “No, actually, they can’t. The monkeys here don't seem to know the alphabet or how to take messages. But you--you're a genius. Please stay forever and ever!”

I’ve worked with supervisors literally standing over my shoulder and showing me how to do a task until it’s actually done and then having to find something else for me to do. I spent a full eight hours sitting at a desk where the phone didn’t ring once, no clients walked through the doors, and I didn’t have the password to turn the computer on. Between counting the tiles on the ceiling several hundred  times and watching the patch of sunlight on the floor slowly move across the room all day, I got a lot of deep thinking done.

One front desk job required that I come in for a whole day of training and - I kid you not - I spent 8 hours learning how to answer the phone. 

Trainer (pointing): This is the phone. You are required to answer it.

Me: Got it.

Trainer: But only when it makes a funny noise. That's called 'ringing'.

Me: Got it.

Trainer: You will answer 'good morning' - unless, of course, it's after twelve, in which case you will answer 'good aft--' Why aren't you writing this down?

Me (writes 'are you kidding me, lady?' on notepad): Sorry.

Trainer: You will do this for the whole day, except for one hour in the middle, where you will take what we like to call a 'lunch break'. You are not required to answer the telephone then. Do you have any questions?

Me: Yes. When exactly did you escape the mental institution?

I once worked for four days doing data entry in a cubicle where I did not see anyone at all except when I left and entered the office for my lunch break where I was accosted by the security guard daily because no one recognized me. 

I’ve worked for companies where they wear jeans and flip-flops every day of the week. And I’ve worked for companies where memos were sent to remind everyone that Casual Fridays were not, in fact, casual enough to include jeans and flip-flops and that anyone doing so would get written up. 

I’ve worked in places where employees worked in open spaces and called out to each other rather than use the phone. And I worked in a place where the receptionist was almost fired for including a chipper “Happy Friday everyone!” over the PA system when paging someone.

But the best job of all was working for The Jim Henson Studio with Kermit the Frog ogling me from across the room and a Skeksis looming over my shoulder. The men's bathroom was labeled with a picture of Kermie and the women's with Miss Piggy. The studio exists on what used to be the Chaplin Studios (as in Charlie Chaplin) lot and several people claim to have seen and heard a ghost. In fact, the Sci-Fi Channel series Ghost Hunters shot an episode at the studios.

With Muppets and ghosts and the essence of the most famous silent movie star ever, how could it not be a blast? The people who work there are fun, creative, friendly and lively, and no memos were circulated when I burst into song on the job because I was so happy that my telephone training was put to good use.

Stay tuned for Part 4 tomorrow: Selena panhandles…

A Day In the Life of a Writer, i.e. Film & TV Extra (Part 2)

Continued from yesterday’s A Day In the Life of a Writer, i.e. ESL tutor.

To catch you up to speed (yes, I’m aware the phrase is “get you up to speed”, but this is an example of poetic license on one’s own blog): I am a writer, which means that I am a freelance ESL tutor, a film and TV “background artist”, an underpaid office temp, a panhandler and, every once in a while, a writer.

Today’s installment: film and TV background artist.

1980 called - it wants its hair back!

Doing extra, or background artist, work on film and TV can be quite fun. Yes, it’s basically a minimum wage job, but most of the time you get overtime and all the free M&Ms you can eat, so you might walk away with a hundred, hundred and fifty bucks in your pocket (figuratively; a check is actually mailed to you a week later) and a gassy stomach. All in all, not bad for a job where you dress up as a nurse, cop, bar patron, intergalactic slave, big-haired 80s gal, or car accident victim (all typecasting, clearly), and then sit around and catch up on your reading, phone calls, texting, ego-bruising, sleeping, etc.

If the PA likes you or you simply have the right look, you might work all day, crossing the set in the background, crying on cue when you discover your loved one is dead, or sitting at the nurses’ station while the actors do their bit (i.e. forget their one line over and over and over) in front of you. And by the way, to the actors playing doctors: it’s pronounced VA-ginal, not va-GY-nal.

Or on a real fun day, you could be ushered out of your cage—scantily clad in a fur bikini with your matted hair and dirt rubbed on your face—with the other slaves onto the auction floor fifteen times in a row. And that was the fun part! The degrading part was waiting between takes in a tent in the winter on a rainy day after the portable heater broke down.

One time the director of What Just Happened?, Barry Levinson, selected me from a group of several hundred extras to play Sean Penn’s publicist at the Cannes Film Festival (a.k.a. Northridge University, where it was actually filmed). My task was simply to follow Penn around as he talked to reporters on the red carpet and then dashed up the steps to the front door of the theater, which was a mighty task in a floor-length gown and heels, but I kept up! Adding to my spot-on performance as a harried publicist was the fact that it was two in the morning and about forty degrees outside and it was the end of a 14-hour day. Don’t bother watching the movie (I’m sorry to say it doesn’t live up to its director's and actors’ reputations), but if you see the trailer (which you will if you click 'play' below) you’ll see me right behind Sean Penn’s right shoulder at the 2:01 minute mark. I’m the grumpy one with the sprayed on tan. 

Another experience, this time on the set of Dirty, Sexy Money, made this minimum wage job worth it: Donald Sutherland spilling wine on the front of my dress and then trying to mop it up with his hands, and later falling to the ground (on purpose) and peeking up my skirt (by accident), then announcing to everyone that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath (not true)! 

So you see, if you don’t have any major bills to pay and you are able to leave your dignity at home, background work can be tremendous fun!

Stay tuned for Part 3 tomorrow: Selena works with Kermit the Frog…

A Day In the Life of a Writer, i.e. ESL Tutor

I am a writer. Which means that I am a freelance ESL tutor, a film and TV “background artist” (much classier than “extra”, non?), an underpaid office temp, a panhandler and, every once in a while, a writer. Put it this way: if I lived on my writing income alone, I could afford to live in the alley behind the Ralph’s supermarket in my very own cardboard box, dine on spoiled lettuce and bruised apples, and splurge, now and again, on a fresh muffin from Starbucks.

Oh ho, calm down, I’m just exaggerating. That’s what we writers do. But the truth is I do enjoy a variety of jobs to pay the bills, some of which are quite fun and some of which make me want to take up residence in said cardboard box. I thought I’d share some of my worker bee experiences with you, so that you could feel better about your own pay-the-bills job….

I taught ESL (English as a Second Language) to a sweet, senior-aged Korean couple who knew about six English words. I went to their home four days a week to impart my grammatical and pronunciational (yes, that’s a made-up word) (and no I didn’t teach them made-up words) wisdom on them.

It was working out great until the second week when the husband decided that I should move in with them and teach them English twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The next lesson I gave was on all the ways to say no: no thank you, no thanks, no way José, uh-uh, not on your life, are you kidding me, do not ask me anymore, etc.. 

 English for Beginners with Perini Scleroso

I’m pretty sure he and his wife thought there was something wrong with me for choosing to be a single woman and live alone. I think they thought they were doing me a favor with the offer—sparing me the embarrassment from my peers or neighbors or something.

He also would incorporate new words into compliments for me, such as “English teacher very beautiful”, “What size t-shirt teacher wear?” (he wanted to bring me back a gift from Hawaii where they were going on vacation), “Teacher have boyfriend?” and, when I answered yes to that one, “Teacher like to kiss boyfriend?”

I could put up with all this, no sweat, but when, one day, he waited until his wife had left the room and then turned to me and said, “Wife crazy. I want divorce. You help me.” I knew it was time to end this gig.

Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow: Selena as an intergalactic slave…

8 Rules for Achieving Remarkable Results

“I want to get rich, but I never want to do what there is to get rich.”

So said Gertrude Stein. I’m not familiar with her financial portfolio, so I don’t know whether she ever actually got rich, but I am familiar with this statement.

Most 99 percenters think like this.

They like to complain, blame The Man, quote clichés like “nice guys finish last”, and generally believe—because of what they learned consciously or unconsciously in their early years—that they won’t ever get ahead.

But complaining, blaming, quoting and disbelieving won’t pay your rent. Believe me, I’ve tried. But what many 99 percenters have never tried is taking specific—and different—actions to turn your life around. Don’t worry, I’m not judging. I mean, how could you have when no one ever taught you these rules to achieve results? The only financial lessons I learned growing up is that “money doesn’t grow on trees”. Right. Try creating a reality show based on that financial advice. Watch out Donald Trump!

Barbara Stanny’s book Overcoming Underearning is the financial plan I never got in all my years on this planet—not from my parents, not from school, and certainly not from all the institutions that eagerly loaned me money. This book is dense with information, stories and a plan to build a richer, fuller life (in it she refers to underearners or 99 percenters as “dawdlers”). 

Check out her 8 rules for achieving remarkable results:

1. Make a vow to yourself: underearning is no longer an option.
• Dawdlers may swear they want to change, but ignore the work and don’t do anything different.
2. Keep your commitments.
• Dawdlers often fail to keep their promises, especially to themselves.
3. Use disruptions to practice the five steps*.
• Dawdlers let themselves be derailed by even the smallest distractions.
4. Enroll your spouse or significant other in this process.
• Dawdlers avoid conflict at all cost.
5. Put yourself first.
• Dawdlers deplete themselves for the sake of others.
6. Keep passages from this book or other inspirations where you can easily see them.
• Dawdlers rely on out of sight, out of mind.
7. Rigorously observe your actions and thoughts.
• Dawdlers are experts at justifying, rationalizing and making excuses.
8. Do what you dread.
• Dawdlers go to great lengths to avoid the unpleasant, fearful or uncomfortable.

Does this list make you uncomfortable? It should. Fear and discomfort are simply alerting you that this is something you need to do. Do you want to stretch? Do you want to grow? Do you want to have a more enjoyable life? It’s up to you.

Let me leave you with two quotes (that you can use for #6!).

“The number one requirement for financial success is simply this: you’ve got to be willing to be uncomfortable.”

                                                                                                          - Barbara Stanny

But remember, this discomfort is only temporary!

"People who make money often make mistakes, and even have major setbacks, but they believe they will eventually prosper, and they see every setback as a lesson to be applied in their move towards success."

                                                                                                          - Jerry Gillies, author

* Stanny outlines a five-step plan to a richer life in her book.

Deadly Distractions

As a freelancer working from home, for the most part, it is easy to get distracted. All of a sudden I find myself terribly interested in the architecture of my apartment: “Those are such elaborate crown moldings”, “Wait, what the heck is a crown molding?”, spends ten minutes researching crown moldings online, “And when did architects stop incorporating built-in shelves and cupboards in apartments?”… You get the picture.

So I often take my computer and/or pen and paper to my local coffee shop to work. There’s no risk of suddenly needing to do the dishes at Starbucks. But I find that if my internal resistance is at level five, then I will find distractions anywhere. Hell, I’d find a way to distract myself in a paper bag. “Hmm, how is a paper bag made…?

However, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right? At least for a half hour. Here are the distractions I am faced with (besides those dastardly crossword puzzles that mock you if you don’t complete them!):

• OCD Guy. He sets his stuff down at a table, and then goes around the entire coffee shop straightening up the tables and chairs. Each table must have two chairs, or he gets very anxious to the point of argumentative. He asks one woman to remove her computer bag and purse from an extra chair at her table so he can return it to the chairless table in the corner where no one is sitting. When she won’t comply, he storms away complaining loudly how some people just don’t understand that each table needs TWO chairs.

• Pink Suit Guy. This short, squat guy wears a neon pink suit about three sizes too large for him. He accessorizes with plastic green glasses and a cowboy hat. He’s quite quiet and just sits at his table smiling benignly at everyone. I text a friend a description of Pink Suit who replies, “Oh, I know that guy! I used to see him on the bus all the time. He never had the money and always put newspaper on the seat before sitting down.”

• Homeless Guy. He doesn’t do much except project his exceedingly strong body odor about ten feet in diameter around him. I personally don’t have any issue with him, but because he doesn’t buy anything, the employees ask him to leave. He simply pretends he doesn’t hear them (I make a mental note to try that trick next time my temp job boss asks me to get coffee for him), and then they call the police. It takes four cops (one midget of a woman, one hulk of a woman, and two regular-sized men) to get him out of the café.

• Headband Guy. He wears a bandana, puts his headphones in, and watches funny movies on his iPad for hours. I assume they’re funny movies because he laughs occasionally. I never see his face because the iPad lays flat on the table and he hunches over it, face-down. I often wonder what the rest of his life is like: is he waiting for someone to come home and let him in? Does he hate his home so much he spends as much time away from it? Has he just been evicted and has no where to go? Does he work at a job he hates and this is his only form of (cheap) entertainment? Or maybe there’s nothing sad or pessimistic about him and my assumptions are more a reflection of my own state of mind….

• Fake Phone Call Guy. (Hmm, so far this list is comprised of all men…) This guy sits at a table with a battered-looking coffee cup that I would bet my overpriced Starbucks drink is empty with his cell phone in front of him. All of a sudden he grabs the phone and starts talking angrily into it, telling whoever’s on the other end (which I suspect is nobody, aside from maybe the voices in his head), “Take forty million dollars and buy up everything! Money is no object!” Then he disconnects, lays the phone down, takes a sip of pretend coffee, grabs the phone, and has some variation of that same conversation.

Okay, enough distractions. Back to work for me, before I become the person that someone writes about in her blog: Non-working Observing Girl. She brings her laptop to the coffee shop every day and then just sits there staring at everybody else and giggling….