Thing I take away from all the stress at work is that it makes me do pull and chin ups like mad. Bad thing is that now I am sore and can’t do any. There is that girl who just haunts me. She has a nervous energy around her that just being near her feels like times when you wipe your ass after taking a shit and it won’t stop fucking you know what I mean. Seriously, it is really, really bad. Sadly she is among the incompetent, so everyone is fine with it, some way, somehow. But really, objectively, she is just a real nuisance with no real contributing factor to a competent team. Only that a team can learn how to deal with massively disruptive persons like her. Always taking notes, yet not learning anything. Complimenting ones skills, yet unable to keep it appropriate, so it does not disrupt work flow or feels creepy. Asking shit every second call she takes, as if others have to do the work for her. Which is fine if the person she asks would not be the cave troll next to me and if she would stop swaying her body side to side while she stands there, waiting like a fucking asshole. Problem is it is the blind leading the blind. So any answer she gets from that cave troll digs a deeper hole for them both, to bury roots of incompetence. The solution they come up with in tandem leads nowhere and the next agent (in that case it was me) who takes the call from the same customer starts from fucking zero. Hell, I made mistakes, but nothing that three clicks and a sorry wouldn’t fix. They fuck up on a grand scale and frankly, I switched departments because postpaid is the same only that you depend on blind motherfuckers for your life, throwing you a bone because the systems are a fucking labyrinth only assholes can know and they rush you through training. But anyway. I’m the fucking best. At prepaid, the systems are at least 10 times easier, the customers are more laid back and we are a pilot project which means the guys I work with are all my equal in hierarchy. Besides the wanker situation. I am the best, that I imply. Although there are times when I transfer calls somewhere else, but always in the know that the customer will have a better chance of solving the issue there. And that maybe once, at most two times in the five hour shifts I do. The number of calls I handle equals fuckers who are there full time and my numbers are allright and by that I mean a solid B. And there is a fucking reason call centre jobs are among the worst of the dead end jobs out there. I won’t stop bragging about myself, as long as I see that everything is a negotiation at how much I am held back by everyone else’s incompetence and peon attitude towards life. Because only real peons stick with this kind of job. Did I mention broken systems that crash all the time? And me forgetting my passwords, now and then. Like, you don’t have to yell at customers, the gear is sensitive so they hear shit being whispered an aisle away. So if your conversational voice is really loud, make a fucking effort and keep it down. We’re fucking rubbing shoulders so don’t think you’re at your fucking kitchen table talking to the wifey at what kind of toothpaste to buy. Second, when I laugh because I think it’s funny what a customer says, I’m not phony. I laugh cause I got a sunny disposition. When I hear my team do a phony laugh to test my kind of attitude on them it is unnerving, though I mentioned that maybe they learn by example. They don’t. They’re just annoying. And do shit to make me mad. Because the talented is target for assholes. So either I get really, really buff from my job. Or I fucking quit. I’m serious. I prefer getting buff though. We’ll see. I just want to do my job in peace. Please. If I don’t get that, I guess that this job can do without me, though I know that on a certain level they know that I am a fucking asset. They better, if they know what’s good for them. So, keep those shitheads away from me so I can focus on the fucking job. If that isn’t what is called for, I talked to my parents because of the uni situation starting late September. They think it’s a great idea and probably would give me my old part time job at the store. Although that was hell too. I guess the hell you know is better then the hell you don’t. I will try to make it work at the call centre, but first sign I see that this kind of annoyingly incompetent girls and boys with social skills learned in the andromeda nebula calls home where I work? I can skip commuting 20km and find it at my parents store for 2. At the very least they should stay away from me. Hmm maybe I need to find myself a nice and quiet spot to sit. Fuck. Because there is none. Heaven help!