Megalomania

When i sauntered into work this morning, well rested and ready to go, I expected to be here for another day of outbound hell. I thanked God when i heard it was over and we'd no longer be getting tortured.

Well today my account manager decided she'd come back from leave...Oh no, I'm shivering. I guess that means we have to start working hard again. She is a pretty imposing figure, and she'd probably crush me if she wanted to. I heard she can run pretty fast too, so i don't think running will be an option for me.

There was a time working in this all white warehouse seemed like the best thing in the world. But i guess i was under some sort of hypnotic daze and mild radiation poisoning from the computer screens.

So my superiors with a smirk on their faces, have decided to extend my contract for another week and continue to pay us peanuts. They've also added 50,000 more numbers to the outbound side of this account. Which means the 50 of us have to make 1000 calls each. OH GOD! I think I'll probably kill somebody at the end of this account.

Is customer service really a job for me. I mean I'm a customer, and I'd hate me if I called me (it makes sense). So dealing with agents and other eeejit (to borrow a term from Ange) customers is really making me question, how much I really need the money. I've already sold out on one of my punk principles by working for the man.

Working on Maggies farm sucks balls.