Wibble Wobble

Sometimes life is messy. Well, more messy than other times.

I've been frustrated over my job lately and pondering, just pondering, the prospect of a different job. I have great customer service skills; listening, caring, helping, understanding, friendliness, acceptance, dependability, focused attention, all the things companies say they want and need, but my technical skills are diminishing; hearing, speed, all the things a company actually wants and needs. The sort of thing that seems to be making me less valuable to this company. Then there is the fifty mile commute, the cost of downtown parking. And I, so deeply, don't care about call times, call monitoring, or having personal career goals. Age, I am sure.

I am aware I have no idea how to run a call center. I understand the need for some sort of matrix or accountability. My anxiety was interpreted as negative, I have never been called negative in my entire life, well, maybe, once. A sadness creeps over me.

I have had to survive great changes in my life, and I do that well, but I have always had change forced on me, it was never voluntary. Now I am in a quandary, a predicament, torn by opposing needs. The need for a job versus the need for a job with less emphasis on speed and personal career goals. It is beyond ludicrous to expect me to have career goals. Age again.

Ian is out of town, so when I left work after a particularly frustrating day I went to Five Guys for a big fat comforting burger. Not a good place for a low-soul in need of inspiration.

Then inspiration hit me.

How could I fail to notice the concerted effort of the staff turning out hot delicious perfect burgers in such a rhythmic design? With smiles on all their faces. How could I not notice the companionship for each other as they shared the work load? How could I miss the beauty of using local produce?

How could I miss the companionship of diners breaking bread together? The obvious love for one another as they chatted and shared and slurped and munched their way though a satisfying meal.

How could I miss the wide age range of folks out and about in the world living their life? No teen looked surly, punky and show-offy maybe, but not surly. There were no laptops in evidence or phones glued to any ears. It was convivial conversation, the place where human meets human. And lots of gray headed folks. I say again graying America is out in force enjoying themselves.

The Sun was shining. Rainier cherries were for sale by the side of the road three pints for $10.00. How could I possibly be sad during Rainier cherry season and with the money to purchase all I could desire?

My friend reminded me we don't have to work under the threat of bombs. No slave labor, I am free to change jobs if I so desire. I experience no ethnic opposition, ageism maybe, but I am denied no job because I am white, female, single, come from Oklahoma, speak with a different accent. I eat, pay my bills, plan cruises, have medical insurance, have a healthy family, car, gas, home. I have a job that I am pretty good at and no one is firing me.

Wibble wobble but don't topple. Life is messy sometimes and sometimes it's not. Sometimes you just need perspective.

A young colleague at work after a particularly hard call said how much she disliked scammers and who would expend so much energy scamming for shoes. I answered, with my infinite wisdom, everyone. Every single person will scam for something at sometime. It's just they believe their scamming is okay. Need, taxes, highway rules, pet rules, adultery, golf strokes, tests, no phone zones, customs, weight, signs that say don't feed the bears, handicap parking.

As I explore hearing aids; Did you know it is now socially unacceptable to call someone "hearing impaired?" Deaf people are not "impaired." I told the lady I remember back in about 1991 when calling someone "deaf" was socially unacceptable and I taught myself to say "hearing impaired." Times they are a changing, I might not be able to keep up but I damn sure will keep on trying, laughing, working, eating, watching the world in all it's glorious manifestations.

I read on Facebook an enlightened country isn't where the poor drive cars, its where the rich ride mass transit. Good point.

Now for a little entertainment. I ran across this bit of paper as I was clearing out stuff, saved from somewhere for who knows what purpose.

Newspapers: Who reads what newspaper and why.

The Wall Street Journal is read by people who run the country.
The New York Times is read by people who think they run the country.
The Washington Post is read by people who think they should run the country.
USA Today is read by people who think they ought to run the country but don't really understand the Washington Post. They do, however, like the their smog statistics shown in pie charts.
The Los Angeles Times is read by people who wouldn't mind running the country, if they could spare the time, and if they didn't have to leave L.A. to do it.
The Boston Globe is read by people whose parents used to run the country and they did a far superior job of it, thank you very much.
The New York Daily News is read by people who aren't too sure who's running the country, and don't really care as long as they can get a seat on the train.
The New York Post is read by people who don't care who's running the country either, as long as they do something really scandalous, preferably while intoxicated.
The San Francisco Chronicle is read by people who aren't sure there is a country, or that anyone is running it; but whoever it is, they oppose all that they stand for. There are occasional exceptions if the leaders are handicapped minority feministic atheist dwarfs, who also happen to be illegal aliens from any country or galaxy as long as they are democrats.
The Miami Herald is read by people who are running another country, but need the baseball scores.

Wibble wobble but don't fall down. I'm off for a vegetable breakfast and then a doctor appointment. I'll have a small glorious drive to Smokey Point where the doctor can tell me my skin is fine and then a small glorious drive back.

I think this life will be okay.