Now I remember you.

I am biding my time, surfing the net and trolling FaceBook, adding people to my friends list. Finally, bored, I go through the list of people others suggest to me. I come across one that others in my family have told me I should know from Undisclosed Customer Service Center™. I vaguely remember her but only that she was related to my sister-in-law and another friend at the company.

This is what I get in return.



LMFAO! Now I really do remember her. Although I can't remember being rude to her, can't remember interacting with her at all. Probably because she was a little on the weird side.

And the 'rumour'? Wasn't.

Furthermore, it was Max who told everyone about it, not me. I don't really blame him, it was a really great story and I doubt I would have been able to keep it to myself if it was I who had pulled it off.

I guess she is not really in the 'Family' loop.

A ringing endorsement?

I ran into one of my former co-workers from the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ at the grocery store. (We will call her 'Brandy') She was saying how much she enjoys the blog (but never seems to comment..grrr). As we are at the checkout, she tells me that she was reading it one day and laughing, when a guy that shares the office with her comes over to see why.

"He asked what you were like and if you were single."

I roll my eyes. "Good God, I just got rid of one man in my house. Wait a minute, does he have money?"

"Well, I don't know."

"Suppose he at least has a job, that's something. Wait, is he cute?"

Brandy giggles, "Um, I do know he has a lot of air miles."

I address the cashier who has been listening to the exchange, "That would be the male equivalent of 'she's got a great personality'."

Shame, they can't even say that much about me.

The ship is sinking.

I have been getting all kinds of reports from friends still working for my former employer, the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™

I believe that the biggest client, the Undisclosed Computer Software Company™ will pull out completely very soon. Just before I left they lost the operating system support contract to the center in India, and soon after I left the Email support contract was lost as well.

They still have the customer service contract but I don't see it lasting. And I will tell you why.

When I was still there you would hear about people being fired for hanging up on up to 500 people in a month. One person, Five Hundred! Who does that? You would have to hang up on most of the people that call you, what makes a person do that?

Along with the firings, there are the tenured people who are quitting. People who know their jobs and do it well. Why? because they realize that there is no reward for doing your job well there. You go the extra mile to make sure the customer has a good experience, and you lose the 'bonus' because your call time is so high. Meanwhile, the guy who hung up on 500 people has excellent call times (until they realized how he was doing it) and he gets the bonus.

Middle management doesn't care, they get the bonus regardless. But when you are a tenured person, sitting next to that guy who is hanging up on everyone, and he gets the bonus instead of you? Ya, its time to move on. And what is perpetuating this? Favoritism by middle management. I have to qualify this, by saying that some middle management try, but as soon as the rest of them realize that that one good manager is fucking up the curve? They squash him.

SCENARIO:

Manager has 10 agents. Five of them are doing their job as set out by the Undisclosed Computer Software Company™. Customers are happy and the client can't say enough good things about the project.

The other five agents (the managers favored ones) do dick all, they hang up on customers, they barely take notes (because they are chatting on messenger or surfing the net) and, more often than not, transfer to the wrong techs for the issue the customer is having. At which time the customer gets transfered back and gets one of the good agents who fixes the case (screwing their handle time) and recovers the customer.

Somehow, the five assholes always seem to get the shift they want and their 'stats' are perfect and their absences are 'forgiven' so they always get the bonuses.

Now, all these agents sit together. The good ones know what the bad ones are doing. They see that they are getting better shifts and never miss getting the bonuses.

So, now the good agents are sitting there thinking, "Why the fuck am I busting my butt to satisfy the customer? Or dragging my ass in here when I am sick?" When they realize they don't have a good answer, they stop.

Now you have 10 agents that aren't doing their job. How long do you think the Undisclosed Computer Software Company™ will put up with that?

Not much longer. Mark my words. This is by no means the only thing wrong with working there but ask anyone in there what their biggest gripe is and it can all be attributed to favoritism.

When upper management finally realizes it, it will be much too late. Perhaps if they knew that middle management has already begun sending out their resumes, they might get a heads up. I doubt it, they would have to take their heads out of their asses first.

Not an easy job for a Big Giant Head.

Are you kidding me?

I have two days left before I terminate my employment with the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ and my manager picks tonight to put me on employment review for my attendance. I kid you not.

He is reading the form letter to me. "This letter is just to inform you that we are concerned about your attendance..."

I give him my best whinny voice, "But I promise I will do better." And just as fast, switch it off, "Oh wait....no I won't."

Gives ya a warm and fuzzy feeling, don't it?

I think I might call in sick on Friday.

The end is nigh.

Well I am creeping up on my last day at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™. While I will miss working for Bill, I will not miss the bullshit that is cubic hell.

Seems like this week people are just trying to make me go postal? And not even people that usually irritate me. People who I usually get along with famously are taking this opportunity to get on the absolute worst side of me.

When call volume is low, they take us off the phones so we don't fuck up the service level. You see the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ does not get paid for 100% service level, its more like 75, but if we go over we don't get paid more. On the occasions when we are above 75% and there are no calls coming in, they have to take us off the phones to force the service level down. They can't send us home for fear that call volume will spike and there is no one there to take calls so the came up with this program that barfs out useless, politically correct customer handling training. Stuff like proper breathing and stretching, positive attitude...blah, blah.

In our department we deal with a lot of students and summer is our down time so you can imagine we have been in more than out of these knowledge sessions. We are long past having any left to actually do, so when they tell us to go into this mode they pretty much know that we have no courses left to do and that we will just be sitting there doing nothing.

Don't get me wrong, we love that shit. Sit around and get paid for doing nothing, but after a while it gets boring.

Back to the 'going postal' thing. Most of us are going into this knowledge session when one of the managers comes up to me and says, in his best Nelson Muntz voice, "You are banned from knowledge sessions." I was half expecting him to point and say, "Nah Ha!" It was a totally juvenile moment.

"Why would you give a shit if I take a call or not? Does it effect you in any way?" He thought he was being funny, but he was just stomping all over my last nerve.

Now these last few days, they are not letting anyone go home early and no long lunches. What this means is we all sit on the phones and do nothing. They couldn't even put us in the knowledge thing because the server was not responding. So we sit. And sit.....with nothing to do.

I doubt I will last through my last shift.

Drugs! Get your piping hot, free drugs here!

The reason I had gone to the doctor in the first place was to stock up on my blood pressure/cholesterol meds. With only one week left at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™, I had to act pretty quickly. Not an easy task to get to see a doctor within a week, but I did it.

Since it would be 3 months before my benefits would kick in at the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™, I would have to pay full price for my meds while in training. Not acceptable since the meds are $27 per month with coverage and $116 per month without. That's a fucking car payment!

So I tell her my story, hoping she will write me a prescription for 90 pills instead of 30 when she comes out with, "So, you are looking for some samples?"

"Uh, okay."

She leaves and comes back with this:



Holy shit! Ten weeks of meds. That's $290 worth if you're counting.

"Will that do?"

Fuck ya....got any Vicodin back there? Being as how you're offering.

Just a matter of time.

Half a second after I hit SEND on the resignation letter, the Big Giant Head sends for me. "He wants to see you."

"Wow, that was fast. Has he read the email?"

"Don't think so , he has been standing over there the whole time." He indicates the rows of empty cubes.

As I approach him, my sister intercepts. She is carrying something. "Here's a pen for your new desk!"

"Hello? I haven't even told him yet."

The Big Giant Head raises and eyebrow, "Why am I always the last to know?"

"I don't know, read your email."

He tries to recover, "I actually knew this yesterday."

"Really? Cuz I only found out this morning."

"Maybe it was earlier today." He has his finger on the pulse.

Then he goes into his schpeil:

BGH: He spreads his arms wide, "How could you give all this up?"
ME: "You're kidding me, right?"

BGH: "But you are giving up all this tenure with ..."
ME: "Tenure isn't doing me any good." It really is the least beneficial in the grand scheme of things. Except that I know where all the bodies are buried.

BGH: "But its a smaller company..."
ME: "It's a Maritime company. It has been around since Jesus was a carpenter and it will be around long after I am gone."

BGH: "But you will be taking a pay cut."
ME: "Forty cents. And the Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ awards raises by skillset. They train me for something new, I get a raise. If they did that here, I would be making more money than you."

BGH: "But..."
ME: "Look, I have been trained and worked in every department in this joint. The way it stands here now, there are people who are trained for one job (customer service) who are, and will always be, making more money than me. The only thing I have not done is the ISP support, and if I am going to do that, I might as well be doing it in my bunny slippers."

BGH: "I see, well if you decide you can't stay for the full two weeks, let me know and there will be no negative repercussions."
ME: "Aside from the fact The Boy would starve? Thanks anyway, I will be here."

I can't win the lottery, but maybe...?

I applied for a job with the local Undisclosed Internet Service Provider™ to do tech support from home.

Unfortunately, everyone else at the Undisclosed Customer Service Center™ had the same idea and there are only 15 openings. What would be really cool is if they hired everyone that applied. We could all do a stampede out the door at the same time. Trampling the Big Giant Head on the way out. (A girl can dream)

I would kill for this job. The mere fact that I could smoke at my desk again would convince me to take a cut in pay. Not to mention the whole 'bunny slipper' aspect of the job.

They supply you with a dedicated phone line, high speed internet, computer, phone, the works. Some reports say desk and chair, but that is not confirmed. Factor in that as an employee, you would get a deal on your internet, cable and phone service and that alone justifies the cut in pay. Their base salary is only 40 cents less than I am making now.

The cutoff for applications was on Wednesday and people were already getting callbacks yesterday. I, of course, was not one of them but there is still hope.

Fingers and toes crossed.

Update!

I had a 25 minute phone interview at noon today. The interviewer said he was impressed with my resume and how I handled myself on the phone.

There is a catch, however. He wants my last employers name as a reference. That would be the one that fired me. You would think this would be an upsetting turn of events. But alas, the planets have aligned themselves for Evel and this particular turn could not come at a better time. (All will be revealed in a later post)

Anyway, I have a face-to-face next Wednesday with another person who will grill me on the technical.

Just a little nervous.

I refuse to call you Doctor unless you call me Princess.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Technical Support Team™ my name is blah blah blah...Can I get your name and your case number please?"

"My name is Doctor Snooty and my case number is blah blah blah." Big emphasis on Doctor.

Oh great, one of 'those'. I am sorry bitch, but unless you are between my legs diagnosing some foreign disease or hauling my heart out of my chest to give it the once over, I am not calling you doctor.

"Ok, how can I help?"

She proceeds to tell me that she tried to send out an email in LookOut Quick with an attachment that she realizes is too big but she tried it anyway. Now it will not send and it will not delete.

We navigate to her personal folder and delete the out box. We reopen LookOut Quick and the email is gone.

"So, I will be closing this case as resolved."

"Is that it?" She can't believe it is that simple.

"Yes." It is 'just' that simple.

After she hangs up I notice that she actually paid $59 for that 6 minute call. I turn to Potsie. "That call was under 10 minutes, you think I should refund her?"

"Sure, I would."

"Ok, but when I asked her her name, she said 'Doctor' Snooty."

He laughs, "Well then, no!"

"Your right, that'll be a $59 stupid tax for 'Doctor' Snooty." Cha-ching!

They really don't pay me enough.

Work has been tedious lately. It is really slow for our project in the summer since our product is mainly broken used by students, so we spend a lot of time off the phones. Which is great because I am on crayon overload right about now, but it does get boring.

Even though they take us off the phones they are loathe to send us home, just in case the unthinkable happens like the donkey dies in India and we go into queue.

Don't laugh. We have gone into queue for weirder reasons. Like an actor dying or everyone in India suddenly getting up and leaving because the bus was and hour early.

So it's almost quittin' time before I have to take a call.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Technical Support Team™ my name is blah blah blah..."

"Ya, I want to change my email." Ok, I assume he switched service providers and needs to setup the new email. Although, why they never call the ISP is beyond me.

"Ok, I am just going to verify the information we have now." I verify his phone number and email address.

"That's the thing, right now it it rocketscientist at ISP dot com. I want it to be madscientist at Orange dot com."

After stifling a belly laugh at the rocket scientist part of it I ask him. "Do you work at Orange?"

"No."

"So how did you get the email address?"

"Well I don't have it yet. But that is what I want it to be."

"Oh, I get it. Well, unless you work for Orange you can't get an email address with at Orange dot com."

"The hell I can't! This is America, I can have whatever I want!" Give me strength.

"You can't just make up an email address, and you can't have 'at' Orange in it if you are not 'at' Orange. My email is at Orange dot com because I actually work 'at' Orange. See what I mean?"

"I want to speak with your manager!"

"Excuse me?" Is this crayon for real?

"You are refusing me support, I want to speak to your manager." I look at the clock, 1:02am. You know what? Peddle your crazy somewhere else! [CLICK]

The subconscious knows.

I am getting a call monitor review from my senior tech, Derwood. Basically he listens to the call and grades me on how I did. I usually spend the time arguing one point or another. Not because I disagree necessarily, but it wastes time. Time that I don't have to spend on the phone helping some schmuck. Plus it is really fun giving Derwood a hard time.

For instance, he notes that I used the word 'wonky', and that I was lucky the customer was British so he knew what it meant.

"Don't you know what it means?"

"It's slang isn't it?" We are not suppose to use slang,

"Of course it is not, I would never use a slang word!"

I have no idea if it is slang or not, but I have a 50-50 chance that if it is not, he will change my score. So I act like I am absolutely certain and make him look it up. He heads to Merriam-Websters.

Drum roll please...

Main Entry: won·ky
Function: adjective
Inflected Form(s): won·ki·er; -est
Etymology: probably alteration of English dialect wankle, from Middle English wankel, from Old English wancol; akin to Old High German wankOn to totter -- more at WENCH
1 British : UNSTEADY, SHAKY
2 chiefly British : AWRY, WRONG

"Well it is mainly British, if he wasn't British he wouldn't know what it meant."

"I am not British and I know what it means." As I am speaking he is frantically googling 'wonky' for another definition. His eyes light up, he turns the screen so I can see the entry for Dictionary dot com and gives me an 'AH HA' look.

won·ky /'w??ki/
Pronunciation[wong-kee]–adjective, -ki·er, -ki·est.
1. British Slang.
a. shaky, groggy, or unsteady.
b. unreliable; not trustworthy.
2. Slang. stupid; boring; unattractive.

He says, "It's on the internet, so it must be true."

"Oh please, Dictionary dot com? I have never heard of them."

"Ok, you pick one."

"Ok, if this next one says adjective, you will change the score?" He is confident, he agrees. "Fine, check out Funk & Wagnalls." And I sit back, confident. He does not know what I know.

Main Entry: won·ky
Function: adjective
Etymology: probably alteration of English dialect wankle, from Middle English wankel, from Old English wancol; akin to Old High German wankOn to totter -- more at WENCH
1 British : UNSTEADY, SHAKY
2 British : AWRY, WRONG

As he is changing my score I am bursting to tell him that the site he chose when he searched for Funk & Wagnalls, took him to Britannica. When you search Britannica and choose dictionary, like he did, it pulls it from Websters. You will notice, although he did not, that it is the same, word for word.

Like shootin` fish in a barrel.

The absolute best part of this? As he closes the tool, I get a look at his desktop wallpaper and I lose it. I could not stop laughing. He is looking at me like I lost my mind, "What?"



"Crayons, priceless!" I continue to laugh, harder since he doesn't realize what it means.

"What? I think it's a cool picture." He still can't see why I would be laughing.

I can't stand it, I have to walk away. You can fill him in, Yvette.

Don't get me started.

• The temperature does not drop 40 degrees when you cross the border. It's called the metric system, the whole world uses it. Besides the US, there are only 2 or 3 third world countries that are still on Imperial measure. Get with the program.
• Men who put their sunglasses on their heads. You can only pull that off if your gay. Ditto for flip flops.
  
• Stop assuming I eat lobster every day. Dude, those things are expensive and they don't just roam free in the parking lot.
• I have never even seen an igloo, let alone live in one. And the only dog sled I have ever seen was on TV.
• Metrosexuals: Pick a fuckin' team.
  
• It's called gun control, not oppression. If you see a guy with a pistol and he is not in uniform, he's a criminal. Simple.
• CSI: They are always walking around with little flashlights. Why don't they ever turn a fuckin' light on?
  
• No, Canadian is not the same as American. "Oh thank God you're American." "I am actually Canadian." "Same thing." Don't they teach you bigots geography?
• No I can't see what you are doing, its a fuckin' telephone, can you see me?
• Not all fat chicks are short, so why can't you make a pantleg for the rest of us. Shoulder pads don't fool anyone. I just look like a linebacker.
• If you want me to fix your computer, please note that "Its acting weird" is not enough information to go on. And if you start the conversation with 'once upon a time' I will beat myself to death with my keyboard.
• "The program has performed an illegal operation" does not mean the SWAT team is on its way.
• "How are you today?" Is a fuckin' rhetorical question. I do not give a flying fuck how you are.

Ya, been having a bit of a bad week.

Fade to black.

It was ten minutes til quittin' time and my phone rings. Someone upstairs hates me. After trying to beat the software to within an inch of its life, I realize I will I have to dig it out manually with a butter knife.

This is going to take forever. Wonder if a phone malfunction will go unnoticed? I look up, I am the only one on the phones and there is just one manager, So much for that idea. It would be like two guys in an elevator. One farts and everybody knows who did it.

2AM and I can't get one of my tools to work so I can't find the list of shit I need to remove from the registry, I look around, the place is empty and I swear to God I can hear crickets chirping. I give my head a shake, "You're losing it."

Finally finish ripping the software out of the computer with my bare hands at 3AM. Thank Fuck, I can get the hell out of here.

Again I hear the crickets chirping. Shouldn't there be some kind of haunting closing music as I fade to black? Who's delusion is this anyway? I say good night to the last manager standing.

ME: "Can you hear that?"

LAST MANAGER STANDING: Without looking up. "The chirping?"

Ya, guess I am not crazy after all, just in the middle of a bad movie.

Wading in the shallow end of the gene pool.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Technical Support Team™ my name is blah blah blah..."

"I am trying to put a vertical line in my document and I can't do it."

"Ok, just click on INSERT then SHAPE and you will see an icon that when you roll your mouse over it will say LINE."

"Ya, but that one is diagonal." Are you kidding me?

"Uh, only if you make it diagonal. It's a straight line tool...you can make it go any way you like."

"For real?" Give me strength.

"Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Technical Support Team™ my name is blah blah blah..."

"My son was messing around with the computer and when I opened LookOut Quick, it asked me if I wanted it as my default. I thought that was a weird thing to ask, I of course said yes. Now all my email are gone! All of them!"

"Are you sure you were using LookOut Quick before?"

"Ya,"

"Positive? Not LookOut?"

"Absolutely." After ten minutes of back and forth, me asking another way and her swearing up and down that she uses LookOut Quick, she finally yells to her husband.

"Honey? What email do we use?"

He yells back, "LookOut." She is silent.

I pretend I didn't hear him. "Just for fun lets open LookOut."

She clicks on it, "Ok, but I am sure I use LookOut Quick but..." Then I hear her singing, "Hal-le-lu-jah, Hal-le-lu-jah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hal-le-eh-lujah!" and she doesn't stop till she finishes.

"So, all your email is there?"

"Ya, now I have to go apologize to my son."

And another thing...

My friend Bunnie is vacationing on D'Nile.

"My doctor put me on two new medications, TWO!"

"Why?"

"My sugar is way up, [insert whiney voice here] He told me I have to give up sugar. But I told him [and here] it's summer, there is ice cream [yup, here too] and ice cold pepsi..." I zone out at that point. He is clearly being unreasonable, demanding that she give up the very things that make her most happy.

"Bunnie, he isn't doing it just to be mean. It's called diabetes. It's not personal."

She looks at me like Hammy from Over the Hedge as if to say, "But I love the cookie!"

Racial Profiling?

Got to work yesterday and there was, of course, no seats. When this happens they put us all in a room so we are not milling about. Meaning they are paying us for doing nothing. We love that shit. We sign a sheet and as the seats become available they call us out. First in first out.

I am sitting in the room with about 15 Bengali's and two white dudes. After about 15 minutes a manager comes in and says she is going to send a senior tech in to do some up-training. (Translation: something to keep us busy)

Five minutes after that the Big Giant Head walks in, looks at the sheet and then looks around. He spots White Guy #1, points at him and says, "I got a seat for you." WG#1 has a quizzical look, he is pretty sure he is not first on the list, but he goes.

Another five minutes goes by and the Big Giant Head comes back in. Again he looks at the sheet and then scans the room. "White Guy #2? You're up." I start to chuckle.

Now I am the only chick in a room full of Bengali's. One of them leans over and whispers, "He reads sheet from bottom?" Cuz this guy knows he was first to sign the sheet.

"No Dude, he just can't pronounce any of your names."

Social Retardation fascinates me.

Since the projects have been shuffled, we lost Weird Office Guy to the new ISP project. But don't have a telethon for us. There are plenty more where he came from.

Enter WOG2.

A little back story. Every Friday the Muslims in our project take off around 1:30 for prayers at a local rec center. A few of them will dress in traditional garb for the occasion. (sort of, but not quite like the pic on the left) I was walking by WOG2 and did a double take. WTF? Is he wearing pajamas? Over his clothes? I just shake my head.

This does not go unnoticed by the rest of the project. Potsie pipes up. "What is up with WOG2?"

Ok, not to pick on the weirdos, I defend him, "Well, its Friday, maybe he is going to prayers."

"Is he even Muslim?" White dude, middle aged, with a forehead that reaches almost to the back of his head, and not in a sexy 'Captain Pickard' sort of way...you get me? More like, 'I am bald but I will grow my hair long so you don't realize I am bald' sort of delusional way.

"Maybe he has converted? Either that or he is just insane." I go about my business, but in the back of my mind, I have to find out this guy's deal. I was sure he was just going to prayers with the rest of them. Why would anyone risk public humiliation if not for religion?

It doesn't take me long to get the scoop. "Hey, remember WOG2? Ya, he is not going to prayers. Turns out he is just insane."

"That's a relief."

"He went on vacation in Africa. This is his Friday suit. Says that while he was there, he made it with a princess and apparently we will all be bowing down to him when he is ruler of the continent." I get a blank stare from Potsie.

"I kid you not. Dude is seriously ill. He says that shit with a straight face."

I think I will have to investigate deeper. How do people like this function in society? I mean, most of the Uber Geeks are a bit nutty buddy, we take it for granted. But our little 'geek central' hasn't been open more than 5 years. What was this dude doing before this?

This shit fascinates me.

"Clarice, we cannot continue this call until you are wearing the tinfoil hat."

Fyr reminded me of a story.

I did not get this call but I was sitting near the person who did. A woman called in and she was frantic. She was convinced that Orange had implanted a microchip in her uterus.

How, you might ask? Well, she went to a prenatal site. Where you put in your info, due date that sort of thing. When she went back a week later, it showed a picture of her fetus and each subsequent week it would show it growing. She was freaked out. So she is now convinced that Orange has implanted her. "How else would they know?" She was frantic.

She could not be convinced otherwise. She spoke to three agents and finally asked for a manager. After the agent told the manager what she was dealing with he thought for second and replied to the agent, "Tell her its a hardware issue. She will have to call the manufacturer." I nearly died laughing.

This is not really a rare call, sometimes I am amazed that these people make it across the street safely.

I love my son. I love my son. I love my son.

I do love my son. No really, I do. But The Boy and I are just about done with all this togetherness shit. For two weeks I have been on a ridiculous day shift. 7 AM to 3 PM. I leave work and my legs are all rubbery and I am dizzy, it is not a pretty sight.

They put us on the phone for an hour yesterday and I was trying to send my closing email. I was looking at this word and for the life of me I couldn't comprehend that it was actually a word. Yvette was sitting beside me, and I had to ask.

"RESOLVED. Is that even a word?" I was pronouncing it like RE SOLVE. You solve and then re-solve. It just didn't sound like it was even in the dictionary. I kid you not. I do not function well in the day time.

Back in the good ole days of 5pm - 1am, I would drive The Boy to the bus in the morning, go back to bed, pick him up at the bus stop at 3:30, drop him at home and go to work. When I got home, he was asleep and the next day we would do it all again. We only really had to co-exist on the weekend and that was plenty. It was heaven.

During the last two weeks, when I get home, he was there. Bored. The second he walks through the door, "I'm bored."

"You can't be bored, the door hasn't even shut behind you."

"I am bored, there is nothing to do."

"How do you even know that?"

"I know." I try to ignore him.

I am on the couch, beat to a snot. I am trying hard not to fall asleep or I will be up at midnight. I have that seedy feeling, like it's 5pm on the day after a big drunk. "God, I am bored!"

"What exactly do you want me to do about it?"

"Let's go for a drive?"

"Are you kidding me? I am not even sure I can get off this couch. When did it become my job to entertain you?" All I can imagine is my blood pressure rising, not exactly a day in the country driving with a sixteen year old. Absolutely not a stress reliever driving with The Boy. But The Boy is like Chinese water torture. He never lets up. The other night I had to go to bed at 7:30.

"What? Why are you going to bed so early?"

"To get away from you, I can't take it another second." I kiss his forehead. "Love ya, good night."

Thankfully, I have one day shift left on Monday (don't ask me why) and then we go back to being two ships passing in the night.

And not a moment too soon.

I am just not an early bird.

Day two of the 7am - 3pm training. I get home and I am cranky. Get in a tiff with The Boy for something he did to me last night.

I remember him coming into my room and talking to me. I also vaguely remember trying to strangle him, but it appears he got away.

"What the hell did you wake me up for last night?"

"I came in to tell you that you left your coffee on the counter and microwaved the sugar bowl." (He is my straight man, we really should go on the road.)

I really don't give a shit if I catch the worm. I may not survive this day shift.

Longest night in history.

The day shift pooched our service level to the point where there was no getting out of it. This resulted in all of us sitting around all night twiddling our thumbs. There were no early releases. I did, however, talk them into giving me Friday off with pay so I get a long weekend before starting my 7am training.

In 8 hours I took 3 calls. Talk about boring.

CALL #1 - A tech from 'across the pond'. He was trying to transfer a customer to me with 8 year old software wondering why it wouldn't work on his just released this year, operating system. Dude, the software is 8 years old. You can't spin that vinyl on your MP3 player. Get real.

CALL #2 - Cox customer. Just spent 2 hours on the phone with Cox, they couldn't make his email work. Checked the settings, they were wrong. How does an ISP not know its own server name?

CALL #3 - Couple of nice guys, just had one question. New OS just released this year. Their email program keeps asking to enter the password. Yup, sorry. It is gonna do that every single time. Known issue, not fixing it. The software is 5 years old, we are done tinkering with it. Upgrade.

I milked the last call since they were pretty cool to talk to. "I was just talking to the OS guy for an hour. Why didn't he just tell me the software wasn't going to work with his OS?"

"Some people just can't bare to break bad news."

"You don't seem to have any problem with it."

"It's a gift."