Monday, December 24, 2007

My Old Resignation Letter

I can't believe it's been a year. Beyond admonitions to "be prepared for life at a contact center if you choose it," I don't really know what sharing this is going to be worth to my gentle readers (and the people I wish were reading me). Still, for lack of anything to post quickly on a Christmas Eve, this will have to do.

For those of you who believe in it, please have a wonderful Christmas. Many of the walking working will only have two days to rest before they slug it out with demons in the work place. This is an opportunity to reconnect, to catch up on sleep: please take it.

To my friends: I am praying for you. It feels like the most useless thing to do, but you know if I had a magic wand I'd wave away all the things that grieve you. As I don't really have one (elm, phoenix feather, 11 and a half inches) I have surrendered what hounds us all to a higher power. Of late I've been angry with that Power. But if one believes what the priests and the ministers say, we are, ultimately, allies. Just because I was ticked off with Him lately doesn't mean I'll be ticked off with Him for the rest of my life.


2 January 2007

It is with great difficulty that I write this today. I think of turning my back on the friends I’ve made, my own progress in my quest for financial and personal growth, I almost want to turn from my decided course. But I applied for the job for more than the usual monetary reasons—I had personal money goals and I was reeling from personal loss. **** has helped me to recover from all of these, most especially the last item. I’ve made friends, I’ve recovered for myself the self-esteem I lost and I’d like to think I’ve helped make our customers’ lives a little easier.

I’ve considered leaving for about a month. I’ve told myself during that month that I had much to look forward to here. That all I needed to do was hang on long enough. My reasons for leaving, however, outweighed the incentives to stay.

This job for me was originally a chance to get paid for therapy. I would not have taken it were it not for the circumstances I’d found myself in: bereft of [wife], in need of business capital. But if therapy was the only real reason I had this job, I didn't’t deserve to keep it beyond the point of minimal recovery.

I had considered making a home here, keeping the job after I crossed that threshold. I liked that I was paid good money. I was ridiculously happy with my team and half in love with members of another. But I had run into other points that I simply could not dismiss.

For one, the scorecard is harder to satisfy, and its requirements will only increase as more and more cross-departmental functions are surrendered to the voices on the phone. Even as we train to meet increasing customer demands with the requisite equanimity, competence and empathy, I retain the feeling that it is only a matter of time before my scorecard failures outweigh the successes. "Super-skilled " can also be read as "Supers killed." (I haven’t spoken of this at length to anyone because I didn't want to affect morale. When speaking with the members of the later [batches], I was nothing but encouraging. Besides, they were trained well.)

Too, I feel that the hours have taken their toll on my well-being. I’ve been falling ill of late, and more frequently—this in spite of my moving to a place closer to the office, in spite of the megavitamin/Extra Joss cocktails I’ve been regularly taking. I know: everyone is responsible for how he manages his time and his health. I have an obligation to manage it so I am well enough to service our clients. It is with this in mind that I have considered leaving for a job closer to home. No, not another contact center. I just want to edit home movies and teach again at a pace that won’t leave me in catatonic slumber 18 hours every first day off.

I don’t want to leave. This has been one of the best places I’ve worked in. However, I feel I must before my performance declines. I am turning in my ID card, the headset and lock assigned to me. I am shredding my handouts and notes. I am saying goodbye, effective immediately. I am also praying for this institution’s understanding.

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