A very good friend has a tempting job opening as an Events Marketing Manager for a prominent and well-respected health insurance company. As lured as I was by a steady salary, fantastic benefits, cushy office space, and the thrill of working downtown, I just couldn’t make a decision. I had spent the last 16 months in Paris trying to be the best culinary and pastry student possible. Was I really going to just give it all up to return to the corporate grind?

Well, yes. But just for two weeks.

Last Wednesday, I reported for work as a temporary employee. After passing the requisite drug test and background check, I slipped on my business casual attire, brushed on some makeup, and coiffed my hair. I haven’t looked this respectable before 7:00 AM in a long, long time.

I grabbed my Starbucks to go cup and other workplace necessities, and drove the quick 20 minutes to downtown. Descending from the parking garage, I followed the pack of other well-dressed workers crossing the street. I glanced up at the building nicknamed “the black box” that would be my home from 8 AM to 5 PM for the next two weeks. The opaque charcoal windows of the 20 story building reflected the surrounding trees and pulsing traffic below.

Giddiness rippled through me as I stood with my fellow “corporateers” in the elevator lobby. There is something quite electrifying about working at a high-powered company. Perhaps it’s the resources or wealth of knowledge, or maybe the idea of belonging.

As a temporary employee, I thought perhaps I’d be exempt from the usual corporate bureaucracy. But no such luck. I sat for 25 minutes in a cushy chair in the human resources waiting area as the lovely young ladies behind the desk fitted around in their newly purchased stilettos. They asked my name three times, but never once asked why I was there. So I sat back and watched them twitter about their most recent exercise plan while taking tiny bites of their Yoplait non-fat yogurt.

By 9:00 AM, I was safely tucked in cube-land, soothed by the soft sound of white noise and surrounded by skyscraper-sized stacks of event contracts, executive calendars, deliverables, marketing materials, and sponsorship agreements. Ah yes, it’s all coming back to me now.

At 5:00 PM, my eyes swam in a sea of numbers, deadlines, names, and phone numbers. My brain seemed to slosh back and forth through the information, trying to make sense of it all. At 5:05, I set down my work with a sigh. The nice thing about being a temporary is just that – it’s temporary.

Don’t get me wrong – I am so thankful for this opportunity. I love helping my friend, dong work that comes naturally, and hopefully making a difference in the workload. But it makes me more excited to get Chez Tse off the ground.

Yesterday my I received my first official Chez Tse credit card. Somehow looking at those two words embossed in the plastic made me realize that my dream is coming true.

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