Firstly, new jobs, looking back at my last entry I discussed a saga involving a carpet. Funny, how when you're out of work the mundane things suddenly seem important and when you're in work, those things don't matter. I suppose the correct reasoning is time and purpose, for which in my last post, I had lots and none, respectively.
However, allow me to backtrack to June, when I began work in BT on a call centre... A demoralizing job, made even more so by the battery-chicken nature. (if you're wondering, I was the equivalent of a phone directory, only a directory would be treated with more understanding and kindness) Upon our four days of training, in which I did more tests than I did in ten years of schooling, the humanless nature of the job, involved us having to learn everything in a speed fitting of the World coming to an end. Included asinine codes for place names, such as 'Swansea' being 'FNS', for which, photographic memory was a must, which sadly I lack. On the rare occasion that I was permitted to speak to somebody actually doing the job, I was given the impression of someone on death row, it was a miserable environment, that I wouldn't wish on anyone.
Anyway, my employment there, lasted a whopping seven days, why? you may ask, well I shall tell you... We were basically thrown onto the phone, ill-equipped and ill-prepared, I sucked at a rate not seen since the latest Rob Schneider 'comedy'. But that was irrelevant, nobody is perfect at something on their first attempt, what crumpled me was the lack of humanity. Long story short, an elderly gentleman had phoned through and was speaking to me, he must've assumed I was his bank and my early requests of "which number please?" were met with the very definition of deaf ears. The gentlemen proceeded to give me his sort-code, account number and address. A data protection breech, the likes not seen since the government last attempted to transit data. Anyway, I tried to tell this very confused soul, that he was speaking to a directory exchange and asked him where his local branch was, the man was getting so upset with his deafness and confusion that I made a cardinal error. I implanted humanity into the situation and disregarded the never-ending and nonsensical training and just attempted to help the poor man. A few moments of chatter, (which was my plan and then hopefully I would be able to help him more) seemed to put him more at ease and I could heard the calmness returning to his voice.
Within moments though, my attempt at nirvana was irreparably ruptured, by a fowl creature that resembled a woman and also claimed to be a manager, she POKED me in the shoulder, cut the elderly gent off and then screamed "THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!" referring to the call length which was a staggering 32 seconds. Momentarily, my concern for the old man, faded away to be replaced by a rit of fage. How dare she poke me! With what I hoped was her finger and not her cock. I stood up and decided to leave the area to cool down. This was the friday the following day I was off to London to visit Vampfan and $tew. Upon my return on the Monday I took one more day of the tests and the festering hatred and rage and on the Tuesday I quit, with the thought of the elderly gentlemen wondering why he'd been cut-off and his anguish at having to go through the whole procedure again, weighing heavily on my mind. Would it have been smarter for me to at least LOOK for another job before doing so? Of course, but then that's never been my ermmmm....what's that word?
Well, that's enough rambling for tonight, if you read through that, my sincere apologies.
I think one of the reasons I re-started doing the ol' LJ is to inspire me in my current task of writing a story/novel. The story is all there in my head, but when it comes to writing down all the ideas, I become somewhat stuck. I'd call it writer's block, but I'm not a writer and I haven't even started. As some of you may or may not be aware, I have suffered through various bouts of depression in my life, unfortunately at the moment this has reared it's ever ugly head again and has forced me (temporarily) out of work and in doing so made me somewhat of a recluse, it's disheartening but not defeating. This is not a pitiful attempt at sympathy, because such a thing is futile, empathy is far superior to sympathy and quite frankly I'm looking for neither, just a forum to write, to express myself in a way that perhaps may be beneficial and also, may help me with this fopping story.
ps - My apologies Laura, as you will probably be the only person to read through this, I realise I completely forgot to say that for whatever reason, I've been unable to open the file you sent me with your essay. Is it possible you could re-send Thank you.