My Last Day

I planned rants ripping apart my co-workers, clients, and agents. I will not post them. Maybe it's the feeling of euphoria that I am experiencing right now, but I don't want to dwell any further about how much this job sucks. This job does suck, but dwelling and writing about the job did nothing to improve my demeanor. The universe feels as if it is settling around me right now; as if my course was restored. God may still hate me, but at least he does not loathe me and that has made all the difference.

What I plan to do for extra cash.

My new job starts soon. While I consider this to be an amazing step forward it is also major attack on my finanaces. I will need a second job to make up the difference, so I have decided to sell my semen. From an episode of The Man Show I learned that semen can be sold every 48 hours and can fetch a price of $60.00 per cup. I've done the math and this will earn an unfathomable sum; $10,957.50 per year! The down side is that my genetic material will be used to pollute the future population, and that might be a lot of Christmas cards that I have to send out.

Nine Days

I have a week and a half left.

Things/People I Hate

People who want to check the status of a policy without a policy number.
People who claim to have just reset their password, but inexplicably cannot sign in.
People who whine about service charges.
People who whine about their policies cancelling after not paying their bills for 3 months while wintering in some exotic locale.
People from Texas.
People from Arkansas.
People from Louisiana
Basically, people with drawls.
People who are insured with Insuricare.
Connecticut.
Mission Statements
The word "migrate" when it indicates a corporate culture change.
The phrase "best practices."
The phrase "think outside the box."
People who are unable to develop their own thoughts, rational or otherwise.
People who want to insure their engagement rings.
My bosses phone.
The asshole security guard who keeps putting "tickets" on my car because I refuse to put a sticker on my car saying that I work at that company.
My phone.
There's more, but I'm bored with this.

I Don't Care

This week I am working some overtime hours, you know to help catch the team up to a managable workload before they experience complete hell when I leave in two weeks. Anyway, my usual shift is between 11:30 AM and 8:00 PM, but I have been working 8-8. My job this morning was to do nothing bt thin the inbox of some responses and I did a good job -- 47 responses in 3.5 hours. Well, there are shit loads of calls coming in, and Erin flips out because I'm not taking any of them. What is she going to do when she's all by her lonesome? Personally, I don't care. I didn't answer one call until 11:30 rolled around.

Reactions

As the news of my departure permeated the cubicle rows the initial reaction was shock followed by jealous remorse. Before I tendered my resignation my team experienced a 30% reduction in force all due to sudden resignations. In real numbers three out of ten people. As the work load increased positons were filled, but two of the postions were not replaced-- the two women who filled those gaps are idiots. More recently another senior member received a promotion amid a massive overhaul of our teams mission. The call was made to replace her and hire two other people. Then our supervisor was dismissed. One month has passed and there are no clear candidates. My resignation was also coupled by the resignation of another senior team member.

I saw how everyone reacted to the news. Veiled attempts to wish us well followed by thier stories about how they are going to leave, what their dreams are, and what their reality is. Erin, a fat thrity-year old woman who acts like she is sixteen, lives with her parents, and cannot fathom why men adore her younger independent and well-adjusted sister with the perky breasts, started to cry. Not because she likes me, because she is left with an inept team, no supervisor, and a team-leader who is concerned with his own-self promotion rather than leading his team.

FUCK IT!

16 August 2005

Gilbert Huph
Insuricare Personal Insurance
99 Main Street
Metroville, USA

Dear Mr. Huph,

Please accept this letter as my formal notice of resignation from Insuricare. 31 August 2005 will be my final day of employment.

Thank you very much for the opportunity to work at Insuricare.

Sincerely,
The Problem Coordinator

Will I be a Mild-Mannered Reporter for a Mediocre Suburban Newspaper?

Most likely, though I will be taking a 30% cut in my current pay. I gleaned one important thing from the interview. This place is desparate. I'm willing to work with desparate. I have to return for another interview on Friday afternoon to meet with the publisher, and much will be decided there.

For now I am postponing "I Can't Believe I Work With These People," to see if I will remain The Problem Coordinator. If I leave I will write a blitz of all the people I work with, which I hope will be mildly entertaining.

At this time, I would like anyone who reads this to offer some feedback. What is your take on my two options? Should I forsake emotional stability for financial stability or vice versa?

My Interim Reveiw

The Problem Coordinator continues to be a strong member of the Web Services Team. He consistently exceeds his availability goal of 70%with an average of 79.58%. This represents 0.27% increase in his average availability since December. He also exceeds his minimum email quota with an average of 14.79 emails per day. This represents an increase in email about of 2.38 emails per day since December. However, where The Problem Coordinator’s email numbers showed steady increase from his date of hire through January his productivity dropped through the months of February through April. In May his average emails per day drastically increased to 17.72 per day. This represents The Problem Coordinator’s drive to help the team during while other team members were devoted to training two new hires, but also highlights the workload he can handle. The Problem Coordinator’s average transaction times show a steady decrease each month.

In March The Problem Coordinator took over shared duties with Helga as Problem Coordinator for the team. Once the staffing situation stabilizes The Problem Coordinator and Helga hope to create a priority classification for problems as well as updating the Problem Log from a Word table to a user friendly Excel spreadsheet. The Problem Coordinator has also continued to update the team on pop-up blockers and ways to circumvent these various programs, so that team members can assist insureds to make payments.

The Problem Coordinator continues to receive praise from the people he has assisted. Recently, an Incredibly Homosexual Insurance Agent indicated wished to speak with The Problem Coordinator while he was on vacation and he indicated that he “was appalled at the idea of The Problem Coordinator taking a vacation.”

A New Hope?

There may be light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow morning I will interview with a local newspaper for a reporter position. The full details of which will be posted tomorrow.

The Plan

"Failure is only the opportunity to begin again, this time more wisely." - Unknown

I'm sure it is evident that my employment is causing me to lose my mind. It has been suggested that I seek professional help with my mini-breaks from reality. I was not going to take this suggestion, but I was informed that one may go out on short-term disability for high levels of stress.

The first step is seeking out counseling. I take that step Friday. I will have to paint a picture of my reality to show that I am crazy, but not so crazy that I need to be locked away. This will result in a plan of action. The details are vague from that point, but I will be sure to let the Shrink know that stress leave is a must. The second step is not working and getting paid for it.

It's all a shot in the dark, but it will be worth it.

Update: Nope I'm Not Going

We now have milk, which means two things 1) I am able to have Cheerios, and 2) Life is back to normal and I have to go back to work.

Nope I'm Not Going

I called out today. I had every intention of going through the same routine, but after my shower I called out. No real reason for it at all. Of course, I blamed it on my incessant insomnia, but I really just wanted to lie about, watch Star Trek reruns, and play video games. Only one plan was foiled for my day -- I wanted to eat Cheerios, but there was no milk. I shook my fist in defiance to a God who hates me and I made a peanut butter sandwich instead.

Insomnia

I've tried to sleep all evening. I can't. One would think that after one of the worst days of my adult life I would be sleeping ever so soundly. I wish that was the case. The day just keeps replaying over and over and over again. The jist is that my responsibility has increased ten-fold and I get no compensation. The only good thing that can be gleaned from this day is that Novacula walked off the set after being insulted.

AVAST ME HEARTIES!

Click the title and be amazed.

Stress Kills

Ever feel like this?

For Fame and Fortune

A few months ago the serivce branch at Insuricare was briefed on the new "initiative" that will be "rolled out" in the first or second quarter of 2006 and will save the company a massive pile of money.

Presently, 90% of Insuricare's agents must phone in changes to their accounts to a data entry representative. I would venture to guess that any where from 500 to 600 people are employed for this express purpose. Starting in the spring of 2006 agencies will "migrate" to a system that will allow them to process these changes without the help of a remote data entry individual. However, the need for agents to phone in new business will remain.

Based on the pay band designated for that job I can guess that the average representative makes anywhere from $25,000-$35,000. Salary, of course, is commensurate with education and experience. An approximate 300 people will no longer be needed to process this information, thus saving Insuricare any where between $7.5 million and $10.5 million annually in hard salries alone. This does not include, Paid Time Off, overtime, health and other benefits.

Only the savings is presented to the Insuricare service branch. They are expected to get excited over this wonderful initiative and the agents migration. They are expected to get excited over the idea of saving in the tens of millions. Yet, they are not told how this savings will be made. They aren't told that people will be laid off to increase the stock price possibly $5.00 per share. They are expected to be happy that this is happening. Yet, they own no stock, they can expect little to no profit sharing, they will not enjoy raises or bonuses. They will simply be told that they were replaced by a machine.

For now, my job is safe. I will be a tool in this grand scheme. I'm not excited.

Why God Hates Me: Volume 1

God hates me.

It's a strange thing to say. Isn't God an omnipotent onmipresent being of divine origin who is filled with unconditional love? No, but I am getting ahead of myself.

First it must understood that I am not an atheist nor an agnostic. I truly beleive there is a divine presence, which may not hate me, but sure likes to screw with me:

I was in the seventh grade when I was testing out my blossoming powers of reason and deduction when I decided that there was no God or gods for that matter. Yet, I was forced to attend Catholic Mass each Sunday. It was there that I issued my challenge to the Almighty. I have always battled my weight, at times I had it under more control than others. I was 12 years old, 5'10'' and 175lbs. In a silent prayer I told the divine presence that I would believe in him if he made me lose 10 lbs. Monday morning I awoke to the worst sore throat of my life. I could not eat or talk for neerly a week. The next Sunday I was cured and exactly 10 lbs. lighter. Coincidence? Probably, but I like to to think that I am a man of my word, so I beleive God exists.

Is the arrogance of a 12 year old boy enough of an offense to draw the wrath of an unseen deity whose omnipotence by definition forces him to know and accept that a human being is intrinsically flawed? Logic insists that I answer, "No," but there is no logic to believing that this mystical force exists anyway, and evidence (proving that God hates me) exists to the contrary. This blog within a blog will present this evidence in the most objective manner possible.