While most of my blogs are usually in an essay or narrative format, I felt like taking a different approach this time. The typical structure just didn't seem to work.
We all know these people...
HYPOCRITE
You sit around and wonder why
The world just won't take your advice.
You got the cures to fix their lives,
But they don't hear your endless cries...
'Cause you're a hypocrite.
I've heard your rants, complaints, and groans.
A constant stream of hate, you moan.
They need to change that thing or this,
But there's something that you missed...
You're a hypocrite.
Talk out both sides of your face.
Hypocrite.
This is not the time or place
To be spouting all your rants.
Want me to listen - I just can't.
Think you've got it figured well.
But you're the one who's needing help.
Keep your bitching to yourself.
You make me sick, if you can't tell,
'Cause you're a hypocrite.
So you want to tell me now,
What to do, where, when and how.
That your ideas are all right,
I beg to differ, 'cause you might
Just be a hypocrite.
The real damn issue is not me.
It's just your inability
To take the time and look inside.
If you did then you would find...
You're a hypocrite
Telling me to change my ways.
Hypocrite
Your thoughts don't matter anyway.
You have no more room to talk,
If you just won't walk the walk.
If you insist on throwing stones
From the glass house that you own
One day you will end up alone,
And the fault is all your own.
'Cause you're a hypocrite.
Watch the world just go along,
Thinking that you're never wrong.
You tell me I should be ashamed,
But you yourself have done the same...
Hypocrite
Now it all seems much too clear.
Hypocrite
My deeds reflect just what you fear.
That you can't face the real you.
All the bad things that you do.
Instead of changing your own life.
You just point out what's wrong with mine.
You can't accuse me of a crime
You commit time after time.
(Hypocrite)
I'm so tired of this game.
Find someone else to take the blame.
You're in such a sorry state,
'Cause it's yourself you really hate.
The jabs and comments are a bore.
This is my own life; it's not yours.
I'm not the problem here, you see,
Don't pin your fucking shit on me.
HYPOCRITE!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
It Ain't So Bad
Let's be honest. This week kind of sucked. No, not sucked. It was complete and utter BS. Yeah, that about says it. Here's a recap...
Monday I was by myself in customer service at work. Typically, I work with another individual in that department, and between the two of us, we stay relatively busy. Not 'beat-your-head-against-the-desk' busy, but busy enough. For the most part, we have decent customers - simple issues, easy solutions. There is only the occasional person that has a real serious problem and wants to be a hard-ass about it. You know the kind...no matter what solution you offer, it's not good enough. They just call to complain as much as they can to whomever they can, and try to get every last bit they can out of you until you're so frustrated you have to put them on hold before you launch into a tirade of vulgarities. Yeah, that kind. We don't have very many...until this week.
It seemed like every possible bad customer we had wanted to call on Monday. Actually, last Thursday through this Monday, since I was on my own all three of those days. Nothing but incessant bitching and whining, asking for impossible things, cursing unnecessarily (at least I thought so), and just being downright mean. Enough to make you want to kick a baby, as one of my friends puts it. Don't get me wrong; I do love my job. This is just that one part for which I don't care, and I had the brunt of it for three days. I really didn't even want to go in Monday knowing that I'd possibly have to deal with those people, and I was right in my assumption. And that was just the start of it...
Tuesday I called home to talk to my father, and found out that my grandmother was just taken to the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn't a long stay. Just overnight. Too much heat, and a touch of pneumonia, which is easy enough to take care of. But it still was a bit of a slam I wasn't expecting, and certainly didn't help my mood for the week. On to Wednesday...
My computer dies, at least my desktop. No 'goodbyes', no 'thanks for the memories'. It just ups and dies on me. Press the power button...nothing. And of course, it was the one night of the week that I was supposed to have a meeting with my friend/business partner on Skype. Texting him back and forth, he found a solution that worked...for about three minutes. The computer breathed life anew, then right as he tried to call on Skype, my computer just shut itself down, and again I couldn't turn it on. (I think I may have called it a 'hateful bitch' at some point. I can't really remember.) My friend then suggested it might be my motherboard, as did a couple of my tech-savvy co-workers. Oh goody! I am now the proud owner of a $3,000 PAPERWEIGHT!!!
But wait. There's more, yes indeed. Wednesday was a big ol' one-two punch, my dear readers! (I say 'dear' because I know not many are actually interested in my chatter, and I appreciate the few that are...) Anyways, what was I saying? Oh yes, the second punch. In the midst of working, I lost a computer file, a very important file, one on which I'd been working for several weeks. Just gone, like my desktop at home. I couldn't find it anywhere. I'd recently transferred files from my desktop to a company laptop, and apparently one of the files decided it got tired of being updated every day. So, weeks of work, mostly gone. I have bits and pieces of the information scattered in other files, but this was my magnum opus - the compilation of all my research. Needless to say, I was just a teeny bit miffed.
(I suppose there was a third punch with another personal issue - but one which I don't really care to share here.)
Thursday offered a little reprieve. Customer service calmed down over the last couple of days since my co-worker returned. Even better, my business partner completed the cover page to a comic on which we've been toiling for quite some time, and it turned out quite nicely! I felt like the day went much better than the previous ones...until I went to the gas station and saw that the engine light on my Escape had turned on. My vehicle was in the mechanic's shop twice already in the last four months, and incurred $1,700 of repair bills which I have yet to pay off. Now I had the prospect of tacking on even more to that outrageous credit card bill. Yay me!!
Sleeping on Thursday was impossible. I may have gotten two hours at best. The week's events tumbled around in my head over and over. Frustrated would be a mild term compared to what I felt. We've all been there. You know, when you just want to grab the first stranger you see on the street and beat the ever-loving shit out of him, for no good reason other than to release some of the pent up aggression and aggravation that has built up inside you? Ok, maybe that's just me, but I'm sure you all know how it feels. Thankfully I have friends who help keep my spirits up, but I was tired, and I was pissed. I woke up this morning (Friday) wondering what the heck else life would throw at me. Little did I know...
Today started like any other day - walk in, say good morning to the few co-workers who show up as early as I do, stick a bagel in the toaster oven, grab a soda from the company fridge, then sit at my desk and boot up...this time just waiting for something to go wrong. I opened my customer service e-mails hoping there weren't any more all-caps rants calling me 'incompetent' and 'stupid'. (Yes, I've been called those, and sometimes worse. Gotta love people!) But I wasn't ready for the e-mail I read...
A female customer was requesting a return. Simple process - issue the return number, fill out the e-mail template with the instructions, and click send. I'd done it a hundred times, and it didn't seem like a big deal...until I read on. Her husband had actually made the purchase a couple weeks ago, and intended to request the return himself. That is, until he died. The customer, now a widow, was trying to get the return taken care of because her husband hadn't gotten around to it. He'd had a heart attack last week, and he didn't survive.
I was dumbfounded. I stared at the screen for several moments, not knowing what to do. Like I said, I'd processed returns many times, but for those moments, I forgot how to do it. I stared at the computer screen, and even read the e-mail again, not sure if I'd read it correctly the first time. Part of me felt a bit uncomfortable. This woman was a complete stranger, and I'd suddenly become aware of a very personal and tragic detail of her life. Oh God. What do I do? Why did she even tell me that?
After I snapped out of my trance, in a move uncharacteristic of my normal routine, I actually called her to confirm receipt of the e-mail. I try to avoid direct personal contact as much as possible at work, for the simple fact that I don't want to deal with jerks. But I had to speak to this woman. She was very pleasant on the phone, and I explained that I received the e-mail and would be sending her the return instructions very shortly. Speaking to her, I thought about what my father went through when my mother passed away, and imagined how she must be feeling right now. I kept the discussion professional until the end when, before hanging up, I told her, "I'm so sorry." I just blurted it out without thinking. There was a brief pause, broken by a quiet and somewhat timid "Thank you". I worried that my offer of condolences may have upset her, but she soon followed with, "Have a good day." I couldn't answer - how do you tell a recently widowed woman to 'have a good day'? I hung up the phone and sat for a couple more minutes.
Why did I get that customer? And again, why did she feel the need to indulge such personal information?
I realized why...because I needed to hear it. As I told you earlier, this week sucked. One thing after another. This morning, I was ready to run head first into a brick wall. Could it get any worse?
Well, yeah...it could. I spent the rest of the day thinking about what happened during the week, and how I let it get to me so badly - and also about how I wanted to write about it on my blog. ;) Life is tough - no doubt about it. And this week stressed me out.
But I thought too about that woman, someone who had just lost the person with whom she'd swore to spend the rest of her life. I can't begin to grasp that concept. When I first moved into my apartment, there was a moment one evening when I though my cat had run away, and that was enough to send me into panic mode. (Of course I found the devil wandering around the apartment hallway upstairs...little bastard.) This poor woman has to deal with a lot more pain and stress than I felt then, and probably more than I've ever experienced. Her life has become much more difficult than mine is, and she has to deal with it alone, without the love of her life. (It's a big assumption that they were in a happy relationship, but I'll assume it, both for the sake of this blog and for what I'm trying to learn.)
What must it feel like to lose a spouse? I remember thinking that when my mother died, and now I'm thinking about it again. More importantly, is my life really that bad compared to what she's going through now? Granted, even now, I'm still a bit irritated at how this week has turned out, but that single e-mail and phone call really put it into perspective. The week was bad, but it wasn't that bad, and I'm sure whatever hardships I have to deal with in the near future aren't going to compare to those this woman will face. I'll be fine - I can't say the same for her with any certainty.
Once on an episode of Reba - yes, I'm a GUY who watches Reba...deal with it - the main character was serving dinner at a homeless shelter, and was feeling down because her family wasn't with her. They'd gone other places for the holidays. Then she thought about the people in the homeless shelter and how bad they really had it. One of the guests, the real Santa Claus (at least a guy who claimed to be the real Santa Claus), said: "There's always someone who has it worse than you. That doesn't mean that your pain doesn't count."
Maybe that's true, but I'm not counting my pain quite as much anymore.
Monday I was by myself in customer service at work. Typically, I work with another individual in that department, and between the two of us, we stay relatively busy. Not 'beat-your-head-against-the-desk' busy, but busy enough. For the most part, we have decent customers - simple issues, easy solutions. There is only the occasional person that has a real serious problem and wants to be a hard-ass about it. You know the kind...no matter what solution you offer, it's not good enough. They just call to complain as much as they can to whomever they can, and try to get every last bit they can out of you until you're so frustrated you have to put them on hold before you launch into a tirade of vulgarities. Yeah, that kind. We don't have very many...until this week.
It seemed like every possible bad customer we had wanted to call on Monday. Actually, last Thursday through this Monday, since I was on my own all three of those days. Nothing but incessant bitching and whining, asking for impossible things, cursing unnecessarily (at least I thought so), and just being downright mean. Enough to make you want to kick a baby, as one of my friends puts it. Don't get me wrong; I do love my job. This is just that one part for which I don't care, and I had the brunt of it for three days. I really didn't even want to go in Monday knowing that I'd possibly have to deal with those people, and I was right in my assumption. And that was just the start of it...
Tuesday I called home to talk to my father, and found out that my grandmother was just taken to the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn't a long stay. Just overnight. Too much heat, and a touch of pneumonia, which is easy enough to take care of. But it still was a bit of a slam I wasn't expecting, and certainly didn't help my mood for the week. On to Wednesday...
My computer dies, at least my desktop. No 'goodbyes', no 'thanks for the memories'. It just ups and dies on me. Press the power button...nothing. And of course, it was the one night of the week that I was supposed to have a meeting with my friend/business partner on Skype. Texting him back and forth, he found a solution that worked...for about three minutes. The computer breathed life anew, then right as he tried to call on Skype, my computer just shut itself down, and again I couldn't turn it on. (I think I may have called it a 'hateful bitch' at some point. I can't really remember.) My friend then suggested it might be my motherboard, as did a couple of my tech-savvy co-workers. Oh goody! I am now the proud owner of a $3,000 PAPERWEIGHT!!!
But wait. There's more, yes indeed. Wednesday was a big ol' one-two punch, my dear readers! (I say 'dear' because I know not many are actually interested in my chatter, and I appreciate the few that are...) Anyways, what was I saying? Oh yes, the second punch. In the midst of working, I lost a computer file, a very important file, one on which I'd been working for several weeks. Just gone, like my desktop at home. I couldn't find it anywhere. I'd recently transferred files from my desktop to a company laptop, and apparently one of the files decided it got tired of being updated every day. So, weeks of work, mostly gone. I have bits and pieces of the information scattered in other files, but this was my magnum opus - the compilation of all my research. Needless to say, I was just a teeny bit miffed.
(I suppose there was a third punch with another personal issue - but one which I don't really care to share here.)
Thursday offered a little reprieve. Customer service calmed down over the last couple of days since my co-worker returned. Even better, my business partner completed the cover page to a comic on which we've been toiling for quite some time, and it turned out quite nicely! I felt like the day went much better than the previous ones...until I went to the gas station and saw that the engine light on my Escape had turned on. My vehicle was in the mechanic's shop twice already in the last four months, and incurred $1,700 of repair bills which I have yet to pay off. Now I had the prospect of tacking on even more to that outrageous credit card bill. Yay me!!
Sleeping on Thursday was impossible. I may have gotten two hours at best. The week's events tumbled around in my head over and over. Frustrated would be a mild term compared to what I felt. We've all been there. You know, when you just want to grab the first stranger you see on the street and beat the ever-loving shit out of him, for no good reason other than to release some of the pent up aggression and aggravation that has built up inside you? Ok, maybe that's just me, but I'm sure you all know how it feels. Thankfully I have friends who help keep my spirits up, but I was tired, and I was pissed. I woke up this morning (Friday) wondering what the heck else life would throw at me. Little did I know...
Today started like any other day - walk in, say good morning to the few co-workers who show up as early as I do, stick a bagel in the toaster oven, grab a soda from the company fridge, then sit at my desk and boot up...this time just waiting for something to go wrong. I opened my customer service e-mails hoping there weren't any more all-caps rants calling me 'incompetent' and 'stupid'. (Yes, I've been called those, and sometimes worse. Gotta love people!) But I wasn't ready for the e-mail I read...
A female customer was requesting a return. Simple process - issue the return number, fill out the e-mail template with the instructions, and click send. I'd done it a hundred times, and it didn't seem like a big deal...until I read on. Her husband had actually made the purchase a couple weeks ago, and intended to request the return himself. That is, until he died. The customer, now a widow, was trying to get the return taken care of because her husband hadn't gotten around to it. He'd had a heart attack last week, and he didn't survive.
I was dumbfounded. I stared at the screen for several moments, not knowing what to do. Like I said, I'd processed returns many times, but for those moments, I forgot how to do it. I stared at the computer screen, and even read the e-mail again, not sure if I'd read it correctly the first time. Part of me felt a bit uncomfortable. This woman was a complete stranger, and I'd suddenly become aware of a very personal and tragic detail of her life. Oh God. What do I do? Why did she even tell me that?
After I snapped out of my trance, in a move uncharacteristic of my normal routine, I actually called her to confirm receipt of the e-mail. I try to avoid direct personal contact as much as possible at work, for the simple fact that I don't want to deal with jerks. But I had to speak to this woman. She was very pleasant on the phone, and I explained that I received the e-mail and would be sending her the return instructions very shortly. Speaking to her, I thought about what my father went through when my mother passed away, and imagined how she must be feeling right now. I kept the discussion professional until the end when, before hanging up, I told her, "I'm so sorry." I just blurted it out without thinking. There was a brief pause, broken by a quiet and somewhat timid "Thank you". I worried that my offer of condolences may have upset her, but she soon followed with, "Have a good day." I couldn't answer - how do you tell a recently widowed woman to 'have a good day'? I hung up the phone and sat for a couple more minutes.
Why did I get that customer? And again, why did she feel the need to indulge such personal information?
I realized why...because I needed to hear it. As I told you earlier, this week sucked. One thing after another. This morning, I was ready to run head first into a brick wall. Could it get any worse?
Well, yeah...it could. I spent the rest of the day thinking about what happened during the week, and how I let it get to me so badly - and also about how I wanted to write about it on my blog. ;) Life is tough - no doubt about it. And this week stressed me out.
But I thought too about that woman, someone who had just lost the person with whom she'd swore to spend the rest of her life. I can't begin to grasp that concept. When I first moved into my apartment, there was a moment one evening when I though my cat had run away, and that was enough to send me into panic mode. (Of course I found the devil wandering around the apartment hallway upstairs...little bastard.) This poor woman has to deal with a lot more pain and stress than I felt then, and probably more than I've ever experienced. Her life has become much more difficult than mine is, and she has to deal with it alone, without the love of her life. (It's a big assumption that they were in a happy relationship, but I'll assume it, both for the sake of this blog and for what I'm trying to learn.)
What must it feel like to lose a spouse? I remember thinking that when my mother died, and now I'm thinking about it again. More importantly, is my life really that bad compared to what she's going through now? Granted, even now, I'm still a bit irritated at how this week has turned out, but that single e-mail and phone call really put it into perspective. The week was bad, but it wasn't that bad, and I'm sure whatever hardships I have to deal with in the near future aren't going to compare to those this woman will face. I'll be fine - I can't say the same for her with any certainty.
Once on an episode of Reba - yes, I'm a GUY who watches Reba...deal with it - the main character was serving dinner at a homeless shelter, and was feeling down because her family wasn't with her. They'd gone other places for the holidays. Then she thought about the people in the homeless shelter and how bad they really had it. One of the guests, the real Santa Claus (at least a guy who claimed to be the real Santa Claus), said: "There's always someone who has it worse than you. That doesn't mean that your pain doesn't count."
Maybe that's true, but I'm not counting my pain quite as much anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)