Turn Up the Music

Day of the first,

Either best or worst,

Reset, start again,

Hoping the same goal to win:

Collections Department.

I'm supposed to be writing a paper to apply to two different institutions in an effort to begin studying for a PhD, but being the day that it is, I just couldn't bring myself to write coherently about social thought and political justice.  As some of you know, I work in a collections department now, and I have to be honest, when I first started this job, I had no idea how emotionally taxing it would be.  I mean yeah, everyone expects collections to be difficult, but you wouldn't believe how fast you become jaded and uncaring, or just how angry you can get over numbers you can't control.

For the second month in a row, I've missed a goal by literally one payment.  And the day after the deadline, that one payment comes through.  After listening to sob stories and lies day in and day out, the disappointment of a month seemingly wasted manifests itself in tirades against customers I speak to on the first.  The craziest thing is I ended up hitting my other goal - by a lot - allowing my team as a whole to hit their goal.  Ironically, if I hadn't tried as hard on that goal, I would have hit all of my goals this month.  That's the bizarre office space I live in, that I'm sure many thousands of people can relate to.

Leaving the office yesterday, I knew the odds of getting that goal were slim, so I turned up talk radio and tried not to think about it.  There is little other sign that you're getting older than listening to talk radio unnecessarily loud.  But finding out that you missed by one, and that you're going to have to drudge at the exact same thing, with the exact same lying customers for another month, hoping for a more favorable result...that's insanity inducing.  So much so that occasionally you have to be reminded that, perhaps, your customer actually does have cancer and can't pay today.

My manager asked us in an email what we're going to do differently this month to do better.  I wanted to sarcastically respond, "try less - maybe I'll hit goal then..." but as that would be unprofessional and earn me a reprimand, I'll just stick with something more mature.  I hope.

So here I am, pitching a little fit through poetry and verbiage.  Per usual.  I am reminded even more that, as good as this company is, it is not where my vision and calling is leading me.  So I plug in to my music, some of the angrier stuff, and turn it up.  For now, to me is not to fret about the future.  For now, to me is to listen to the lies, make it through the month, and help it along with some headbanging.  That seems to temporarily solve everything but the ensuing case of whiplash.