Sometimes I get sick of recognizing a situation at its very inception, at the very early stages. Maybe it's intuition, or maybe it's wisdom letting me recognize the signs, but I recognize it early on. But what I'm sick of, is how these perspectives are never taken seriously, written off as paranoia or anxiety or insecurity, or any other negative emotion, and then having it turn out I was right all along. That's my complaint for the day. (and if I can't complain in my diary, where can I complain?)
I'm sitting around, listening to Current 93's "all the pretty little horses". I ache all over, and I have to go back to work today. I've been sick since Sunday. It's the most god awful kind of sick, this constant feeling of pressure on my throat, where it's painful to talk and an ache in my joints, a constant fatigue. I called in sick yesterday and the day before. When I called in yesterday, I got a lot of attitude from my boss. Oh fuck you, fire me if you don't like it. People get sick sometimes, and if you can't understand that, then I don't want to work for you. Especially with all the shit that you've already pulled in the short time that I've been there.
Friday, I talked to a woman who wondered why she was getting past due notices. I was a bit confused by what I saw on the screens so I asked my supervisor. She told me that, apparently, at her closing note she was supposed to start paying in december of 2000 but then our system had a screw up and so the mail we sent her and all her billing statements said she didn't need to make payments until January 2001. Well, she understandably made her payment in January. We just corrected it on our system, and put her as a month behind, and so she got listed on her credit rating and was assessed a late fee. So I was trying to explain to this woman what happened, with no better advise from my supervisor than "tell her what happened and that she's still a month behind." Now, if someone told me that, I would completely lose it. I was very apologetic to the woman and so she was nice to me about it, and so she asked if we could fix her credit. I asked my supervisor, who grudgingly agreed but made it out to be a really big deal. So I told her we could fix it, assuming she caught up in the next thirty days. She was appreciative. I think the only reason she was so nice about it was that she could tell I was as horrified as she was by our mistake.
I just can't comprehend that. What I can't comprehend worse is that I see stuff like this every day and most of my co workers don't seem phased by it. They're more than happy to respond by being bitchy to the customers and getting them lost in the company's bureaucracy. I thought that since I knew what I expected as a customer, and what appeased me versus made me irate, that I would be good at customer service. But it is that very thing that makes it such a hard job for me, because I'm basically helpless to do anything about all the problems inherent in the company.
It's not that the customers are stupid. I mean, some of them are, and it's easy to remember the ones that are, because they take up thirty minutes of your time for what should be five. But these are actually the minority. Most of them don't understand certain things about the ways that loans work, that is true. But most of these things you wouldn't know if you didn't work for a mortgage or insurance company. Hell, I didn't know them prior to working there, so I can't hold them against people.
I'm not sure what other job I can find though. I so desperately want to quit, but there's not an overabundance of decent jobs that will work around my school schedule. There's a lot of jobs at places like Target and Walmart.
So I met some of our neighbors, which was nice. They were actually pretty cool. I was up drinking with them until about five in the morning, and then they came over the following night for a little shindig we were having.
So I have been giving this Chicago thing a good deal of thought. I don't know. I really don't. In my mind's eye, there's a certain comfort in thinking about things-what that city is like in the fall, the different neighborhoods, the buildings, the old haunts. But then there's the reality of what life for me was like there and it wasn't all that good. I want to go back, but not until I know that I can make it work for me, which I never have in the past. I don't want the alienation and I don't want the daily frustrations that become downright overwhelming. I don't know. We'll see. I still have to apply to Kendall. I guess if I didn't get a decent amount of financial aid, I could always go back there, and finish my education at the city college. But right now, I have my doubts and I don't want to return until I know those doubts are assuaged.
We'll see. Time has a way of working things out. But I like my idea of just applying to Kendall and seeing how much money they throw at me. I may also toss in Center for Creative Studies in Detroit (they have a very good animation and multimedia program there, and apparently a good financial aid package.) just to see what happens. If I can get some money toward living expenses on top of tuition, I will go to whoever offers me more. If not, I'll just get the associates at the city college.
I like the idea of letting fate decide where I live. It's as good as any logical formula to deciding that I have ever thought of.
I suppose, for all my talk about how unnecessary a degree is, I really want one. I don't think it's necessary. For some people. But it's a goal I want to achieve, something I want to cross off my list. Also, I find I pick up stuff more quickly in a classroom. Not that I can't from a book, but it's too easy for me to put the book down for a few weeks before moving on to the next chapter.
So I guess, at the old age of thirty, I'm finally making it a priority. That's okay. There are worse priorities, I suppose.