There used to be 3 people in the Call Center, and work enough to keep us all busy.
Then, the current recession hit, and Fashion Zombie was fired.
Me and my Neighbor handled the phones, then, and it was difficult, but we managed. We covered for each other, and things got done, maybe a bit late, in a bit of a rush, but they got done.
Now, Neighbor has gone on disability for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Who knows when she will return.
And I am fucked, fucked, fuuuuucked!!!
To begin with, half of the things I have to do, I received no training in. They are things that can be postponed a few days, or even a week, until she returned. There was no real ( perceived) need for me to learn to do everything she could do. I only had to hold the fort until reinforcements arrived.
And so, I am stuck trying to figure out the procedures for all sorts of stuff, while at the same time my phone is ringing off the hook, and I have to keep up to date with my own share of the load.
I am making mistakes, stupid mistakes, because I am in such a rush. Yet, as the day progresses I am interrupted so often that I rarely accomplish anything. Well, I must have accomplished something, otherwise I would have drowned long ago, but every time I look at my desk, it is covered with half-finished tasks.
And suddenly, someone will ask: “Kiki-chan, we cannot find this part in the warehouse. Did you place the order yesterday when I asked you? I told you it was VITAL that it reached us today!”
And I feel just idiotic, the biggest moron on the surface of the earth, ‘cause, yes, they told me to do it, and yes, they told me it was important, and I forgot because I was doing so many things at the same time, that I can’t cope, I can’t keep that many eggs on the air,so a few of them inevitably splatter.
But maybe I am drowning in a glass of water. The other day I was talking/complaining to a co-worker, and I said I was under so much stress. And he offhandedly mentioned that there are people who actually thrive under stress. And I was, like: “Really:?”.
‘Cause I sure don’t.
On the bad days, I go home all tired, take a shower and go to sleep early. Only to dream of work again, and I wake up almost as tired as the day before. I suppose it might mean that my subconscious is working on the info learned, so that I will make fewer and fewer mistakes as I go.
Still, I don’t like it very much.. It’s like never leaving the workplace at all.
Then comes the matter of my Aide. A temp was hired to help me during this difficult time.
I don’t like her one bit.
The day she came for the first time, I took out a Tarot card to see what I was getting. Turned out Princess of Wands. My deck is a Manga Tarot deck, and the picture is this.
A pissed-off young lady, riding a tiger, surrounded by fire.
This can’t be good.
I met her, and worked with her all that day. She was hard-working, polite, too much of a Miss Congeniality.
That night I dreamt that someone had let loose a tiger inside my home. It was a horrible dream, all paranoia and fear. When I woke up, the first thing that came to my mind was her.
So, I feel we have a tiger in our midst, so I will be careful with her. But she is here to work, and I try not to be unfair to her. *sigh*
Now, another matter entirely is that Mr. Vogon seems to feel entitled to her labor. He asks me if he can borrow her for half an hour, and when I said “no”, ‘cause I really needed her to take the phone and do some work for me, he said “ok”. Half an hour later, my boss comes by, all casual-like, and asks me, all politeness and sweetness, to please let the girl go help Mr. Vogon, because he really needs her help, and he will only keep her for an hour or so. So, ok, I let her go.
She was gone for the rest of the day.
What was she doing? Reading to him.
He used to make me do that too. He gives you a piece of paper, printed extra-tiny, and asks you to read it to him, while he types. That’s it. Boring as hell, and he takes constant breaks, so he makes it last longer than it has to.
And it all aggregates
The telephone, the demands, the things I should know but don’t, the things I know but mustn’t say, the constant feeling that she is dangerous and I should watch my back, the need to know where is everyone at a given time, the delays I incur in when my guys simply won’t answer the phone, or the bosses are nowhere to be found, and my own forgetfulness, ignorance, and lack of resources. And then, the need to be nice! ‘cause that is all that matters in a Call Center, you know.
Heaven forbid, that you might sound tired.
Heaven forbid that you might sound a little put off.
So, sometimes I feel like I am dying, like there is a pressure in the center of my chest, making a knot.
I am giving it all I have in me. I have not skimped on effort.
And I feel that my effort is wasted and that something is wrong in me, because I should be able to do more.
And I know, too, that I am being willful. That a whole lot of people out there are unemployed and wished they had my problems.
But I guess that is the whole point in having a blog, ain’t it?
That I get to rant, complain, cry a bit, and shake my puny fist at the heavens.
