When I arrived at work today, my badge to get in the door wasn’t working. I called my boss and someone was sent down to let me in. I questioned whether or not this was a fluke, because when I recently moved, I didn’t get a home phone, so my staffing agency had no way of reaching me if they so chose to call and fire my ass. Later in the day, I decided it really was just a fluke, because my boss came by to tell me that my badge should be working again.

At the end of the day, though, the boss stopped by my desk again to tell me to call my staffing agency. Oh ho… I don’t believe in two massive, and highly connected, coincidences happening in one day without reason. I was sure that I was going to be relieved of my duties. So, I called before I left work.

They didn’t fire me!

I was told that my boss is concerned about my attendance, because I’ve been leaving early a lot to meet presidents and such. According to the staffing agency chic, they are quite happy with my work though. They don’t want to lose me. I do a terrific job when I’m there.

Are these people on crack?!?

Because they are right. I do a good job when I am at the office. But I don’t do THE job. As in, the one they are paying me for.

Somehow, I managed to keep it together, because in my mind our conversation went a little something like this:

STAFFING CHIC: They said you do a great job when you’re there. They really don’t want to lose you.

ME: Heh.

STAFFING CHIC: I’m sorry?

ME: Nothing. Please continue.

STAFFING CHIC: So, if you could just commit to working the forty-hour week for the next few weeks.

Thinking about how I am being begged to allow them to pay me for even more hours that I don’t actually work, I try to suppress my mirth. Unable to contain my glee at my rebel greatness, a snicker pops out.

STAFFING CHIC: Did you just laugh?

ME: No?

STAFFING CHIC: Okay. You’ll work forty hours?

ME: I’ll be here.

STAFFING CHIC: Great.

Judging by the fact that she allows me to get away with not actually answering the question, I determine she is an Obama-supporter and promptly end the conversation.

After I hang up the phone, I gather my belongings and head out of the office, only to return once again tomorrow…

Because, clearly, I, Riley LaShea, am fire resistant.