Sometimes Taking a Step Back is Beneficial in Our Careers

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1948

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p id="a4a8">Anyway, I worked and studied my ass off in the training and returned ready to ride herd on 53 customer service agents via the new system.In the training I learned how to operate the system, troubleshoot it, set up macros, and how to generate reports on the individual CSR’s which I passed on to their managers. In the meantime I also learned that I love dining on lobster in a crab shack on a wharf in Kennebunkport, Maine with the new friends I made in class.Back on the job, I learned how to put the fear of God into some lazy CSR’s who decided they needed an outside smoke-break after every call they took from an angry, grounded pilot needing a part air-mailed to them in Timbuktu.Oh yes, my salary was a paltry $12 bucks an hour. Ya know, like a receptionist’s salary — not the head of a Call Center.This hellish job ended when I quit because after 2 years, I was burned out. I left because the CSR’s had grown to resent me, the managers kept wanting me to change the system (like I was a programmer) to better police their agents, and the President of the division began to have an affair with his secretary, who had a truck drivers face and the body of a pole dancer, who I worked closely with. In short, I grew to hate the job and although my reviews were good, I remained at$ 12 an hour.Insert: On my last day HR requested an exit interview with me. A few days later, HR called me back and said they had forwarded my exit interview to Raytheon’s Ethics committee as it contained my suspicions about the president and his secretary having an affair. The Ethics committee decided to have ‘the couple’ followed. Although they were both married they were caught having sex on their lunch hour — I kid you not. Raytheon’s HR offered to rehire me and place me in another position and division, however I n

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icely declined.After that I knew I’d had my fill of the corporate world. I was just too cut-throat and dysfunctional for me so while I recouped at home, I scoured the want ads in the newspaper and found an ad for an optician. The words “no experience needed, will train” caught my eye.I thought I might be a good fit for the job because I’d done crafts for years so I knew I was good at working with my hands. I also liked the fact that they were located in a small town just 12 miles away from the suburb where I live, and the position was 34 hours a week.The town had the reputation of being a sleepy little berg with a delightful downtown area that consisted of 4 blocks of old buildings renovated into quaint little eateries, antique shops, and boutiques. The idea of working there sounded like heaven to me! I envisioned myself having lunch in one of those cutesy cafe’s as I read a book being content to mind my own business. That never happened because I discovered I preferred eating in my own car while parked in a lovely little country cemetery. Peace and quiet, ya know? That is, until the stalker showed up.If you missed it, you can read that episode here… <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-was-stalked-by-an-old-geezer-6bae263c0dce">“I Was Stalked by an Old Geezer.” | by Pam Winter | Medium</a>Yes, sometimes a complete change of work is needed to successfully move forward from burnout. I ended up loving my job as an optician and I excelled at it just like I thought I would. I’m writing a story now about that job and I will publish it soon. So if you’ve ever wandered what that job is like, tune back in and read about some of my best and worst patients and what all I learned to do. I guarantee it’ll be worth your time.Thank you for your time and thoughtful writing everyone.</article></body>

Why I went from being in charge of a large aircraft parts call-center, to becoming an optician

Burn out is a job killer. I know because, like my daughter, it happened to me too and like her I eventually healed by changing jobs.

1997 — I began my employment in Raytheon’s Aircraft Parts Division. My employment began with a temp assignment, but I was soon offered a permanent position as a receptionist for a newly formed parts division after Raytheon decided to combine all the customer service departments into a call center. Then by way of pixie dust, the president of the division suddenly announced in a staff meeting that I was going to become the head of it. Say what?! I’d been a receptionist for only two weeks

Before I could even digest the shock, I was off on a jet to New Hampshire for 4 days of intense computer training with the company who made the software program they bought that would oversee the call center. Never mind that I didn’t even know how to do a spreadsheet on Excel. I added this to show just how out of touch the President was. (More on him later)

Anyway, I worked and studied my ass off in the training and returned ready to ride herd on 53 customer service agents via the new system.

In the training I learned how to operate the system, troubleshoot it, set up macros, and how to generate reports on the individual CSR’s which I passed on to their managers. In the meantime I also learned that I love dining on lobster in a crab shack on a wharf in Kennebunkport, Maine with the new friends I made in class.

Back on the job, I learned how to put the fear of God into some lazy CSR’s who decided they needed an outside smoke-break after every call they took from an angry, grounded pilot needing a part air-mailed to them in Timbuktu.

Oh yes, my salary was a paltry $12 bucks an hour. Ya know, like a receptionist’s salary — not the head of a Call Center.

This hellish job ended when I quit because after 2 years, I was burned out. I left because the CSR’s had grown to resent me, the managers kept wanting me to change the system (like I was a programmer) to better police their agents, and the President of the division began to have an affair with his secretary, who had a truck drivers face and the body of a pole dancer, who I worked closely with. In short, I grew to hate the job and although my reviews were good, I remained at $12 an hour.

Insert: On my last day HR requested an exit interview with me. A few days later, HR called me back and said they had forwarded my exit interview to Raytheon’s Ethics committee as it contained my suspicions about the president and his secretary having an affair. The Ethics committee decided to have ‘the couple’ followed. Although they were both married they were caught having sex on their lunch hour — I kid you not. Raytheon’s HR offered to rehire me and place me in another position and division, however I nicely declined.

After that I knew I’d had my fill of the corporate world. I was just too cut-throat and dysfunctional for me so while I recouped at home, I scoured the want ads in the newspaper and found an ad for an optician. The words “no experience needed, will train” caught my eye.

I thought I might be a good fit for the job because I’d done crafts for years so I knew I was good at working with my hands. I also liked the fact that they were located in a small town just 12 miles away from the suburb where I live, and the position was 34 hours a week.

The town had the reputation of being a sleepy little berg with a delightful downtown area that consisted of 4 blocks of old buildings renovated into quaint little eateries, antique shops, and boutiques. The idea of working there sounded like heaven to me! I envisioned myself having lunch in one of those cutesy cafe’s as I read a book being content to mind my own business. That never happened because I discovered I preferred eating in my own car while parked in a lovely little country cemetery. Peace and quiet, ya know? That is, until the stalker showed up.

Yes, sometimes a complete change of work is needed to successfully move forward from burnout. I ended up loving my job as an optician and I excelled at it just like I thought I would. I’m writing a story now about that job and I will publish it soon. So if you’ve ever wandered what that job is like, tune back in and read about some of my best and worst patients and what all I learned to do. I guarantee it’ll be worth your time.

Thank you for your time and thoughtful writing everyone.