Changes in perspective.

My car died halfway through my hour-long commute, so I'm enjoying a half a day off of work. But while I'm waiting for someone to give me a ride home, I'm sitting at my former place of employment. I was here last week to see people, and I'll be honest .... Coming back has crossed my mind. I'm so burnt out at the call center.

I think there are three main reasons. One, the goddamn drive. Two hours a day is a lot. And I LOVE to turn on my music, roll the windows down, and sing away a long drive. But I've been having a ridiculous amount of car trouble the last few months. I've had two flat tires, a blown-out tire, a fuel pump that went out, run out of gas five fucking times, and then today's smoking-car fiasco. This is between three different vehicles, and here's the kicker: none of them were my fault. Truly. Even the running out of has was due to malfunctioning gauges, fuel leaks, etc. It's fucking retarded. And oy vey, the cost of gas! I make 11 an hour before tax once you subtract gas.

The second reason is that I feel like I spend my days having the same conversation, over and over and over. My calls tend to fall into three categories: "why should I pay to replace your equipment" (because it's been in YOUR possession for two years maybe), or "you're too expensive, I'm switching to Competitor!" (who in 99% of cases is NOT cheaper after the first year and is in fact more expensive), or "I want something free." And it gets old, bitches, older than people bitching about their food.

The third reason is feeling socially isolated. I work with some nice people, but I hardly get to talk to them. Our breaks are at different times, we can rarely talk between calls, and after work all we want to do is get the fucking hell out of there. Plus when we do talk, I have to really restrain myself. I spent years in an atmosphere where I could pinch Mistress J's boobs, slap Work Wife's ass, and tell Lapdog to fuck off all in the same trip through the kitchen. This place is exceedingly strict about sexual harassment, as any corporate place would be. Sexual stuff aside I can't even toss out my usual sarcasm or I'll get talked to (again). It's fucking stifling. Plus there's a lack of physical contact. I didn't realize until the boy dumped me how empty of human contact my life is without my friends here. We were always hugging or casually touching. And when I first changed over to the new place, I had the boy. Now .... If I don't see a family member or friend, which because of schedule is a rare thing, I might go weeks without so much as brushing another person. I didn't realize how much it affected me.

I guess there's another reason - schedule flexibility. I've never had a job before where I couldn't request an unpaid day off. Even when I was salaried, I could shift my hours around and make it work. But this place is totally hard-nosed about it. You can't swap shifts. You can't work overtime one day to cover the next. You can't pre-schedule a day unless you have paid time available. I'd like to know what exactly their fucking problem is with NOT paying me. But it's really difficult to see friends, see family, bake, etc.

And somehow all of that adds up to considering the possibility of dealing with Chicken Little again. I know, it's freaking insane. But I think I would feel differently about it, because I would be choosing it this time.

I don't know. I'm just kicking it around right now. But I don't think I'll find anything but serving that will give me the schedule flexibility I desperately want and the income. If I were making enough to be saving up, to be getting ahead ... If I were able to save up enough to pursue my actual dreams, I could look at it as a stepping stone. But I'm still just scraping by. If I'm going to scrape, I'd like to at least do it more on my terms.

And then I thought of something add and went to the trouble of downloading a blogger app and starting to edit this.... And now can't remember it.