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The Truth About My Job Pt2

It’s been about five months since my first post about CenturyLink. Since then, they’ve added a new team to the outbound floor. A lot more people have come and gone (mostly the latter, virtually every person I wrote of in the last blog has moved on). The center hasn’t changed all that much; we still process inbound and outbound calls.

Not too long ago, one of the higher-ups hurled a racial slur at me. Remarkably, I don’t think he meant it to be malicious; I really don’t think he knew any better. The matter was addressed privately; I didn’t want it escalated. I didn’t want to see anyone—anyone—put on the street because of me.

But that doesn’t mean I forget; I had to deal with this from a higher-up at my place of employment.

I still love what I do; I love the friendly, competitive, mildly snarky environment. This is probably the most diverse group of people I’ve ever worked with (outside of California), and while it’s definitely a sales environment, most people will pass along what they’ve learned along the way. You have to earn the right to brag, though.

Some of my issues with the job stem from my own faults; I don’t like being told what to do, and I have a real hard time following rules that don’t make any sense; such as being forbidden to surf the internet during work hours.

Granted, during inbound days, I’d understand it; we’re often slammed with back-to-back calls, so you don’t really have time to update your Facebook. But on some outbound days? When we’re waiting up to five minutes between calls? We’re supposed to “mentally prepare for the next call”. Times like this, I’d rather be physically preparing my resume, but it’s what it is. I’ve gotten into too much trouble for net surfing, so I don’t chance it anymore. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.

We also have these heavy-handed Quality Assurance scans that would make the job a lot easier, if they were handled right. They exist to ensure that we’re not doing anything unethical or illegal to a customer. But when someone gets penalized for telling a customer that a call may be “monitored” instead of “recorded”, it feels more like someone taking a power trip and adding unnecessary stress to an already demanding position.

I don’t have a problem with change; I have a problem with blatant unprofessionalism. I have a problem with roughly thirty percent of my sales never going through and no explanation given. I have a problem being penalized for not selling leads that have been wrung out repeatedly (then again, to be fair, I get burnt out, so I miss a lot of opportunities on leads that could be sold). I have a problem for rules that change so quickly it’s nearly impossible to keep up at times.

A number of us had been promised for months that we would be moved into another capacity of the job. When the time finally came, we all showed up to work two hours early only to hear from each other (instead of our bosses) that the opportunity had been cancelled. Little instances like this are what keep me from referring people to this job. I prefer to keep things simple; I come in, do my job to the best of my ability, and go home.

All of that said, I grew up on this job. When I initially started, it was supposed to be a temporary thing; I never expected to be good at it, I never expected to take it seriously, and I certainly never expected to learn so much about telecommunications here. I wouldn’t say I look forward to going to work, but there are worse ways to kill eight hours. Certainly less profitable ways, anyway.

Overall, CenturyLink is a job; for me, it’s a stepping stone and a means to an end. I will probably be here until/if my writing takes off. I manage to keep things simple, stay away from things I don’t need to be involved with, and do my job to the very best of my ability. That, in my opinion, is the best way to survive here.

That is the truth about my job.

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Batman: Under The Red Hood Reviewed

Fluid, gripping, and utterly violent, Batman: Under the Red Hood provides a condensed telling of Batman’s greatest failure and the subsequent rise of one of his most tragic villains. Strikingly animated, with gorgeous action sequences and fight scenes that would do Yuen Woo Ping justice, DC’s latest entry into its animated portfolio is a very good example of animated storytelling for the grown-up crowd.

This is also easily the most violent entry in the animated series; one characters death is graphically depicted and the Joker cuts some poor schmo’s throat with a broken drinking glass. Not for kids.

That being said, there’s very little to complain about here. The animation is fluid and moves without a hiccup. We see more of the Batman universe explored here than any other animated outing, and although fan-favorite Nightwing is a welcome addition, it would’ve been nice to see him get a little more screen time. Still, the relationship between Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne is represented well here. The dialogue does a good job of depicting their history without getting too much backstory.

The film’s only real flaw is in the voice-casting. It’s not horrible, and Jason Isaacs (of Harry Potter fame) brings an impressive Ras Al-Ghul to life. Neil Patrick Harris also does a pretty good job as Nightwing. Notably absent from the cast is Kevin Conroy, who has lent his voice to Batman for almost twenty years now. Bruce Greenwood is passable at best as the Dark Knight, but often comes off as trying too hard. He often sounds more like a Dirty Harry knock-off than Batman, but his performance isn’t so bad that it takes away from the film. John Di Maggio’s Joker is hit-and-miss; never very funny, never all that scary, either.

The DVD retails for $15 or $20 (the $20 version is a special edition which includes a free preview of Jonah Hex). Either way, this is money well-spent. Batman: Under the Red Hood very much worth the asking price and a great addition to any fan’s collection.

3.5 out of 5 stars.

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Beating Diabetes and Running Down Dreams

For the past couple of years, I’ve been trying to beat back type-2 diabetes. Either that or I’ve been trying to kill myself. Until a few weeks ago, I wasn’t sure which.

When I first started, I quit junk food cold turkey and began a workout routine that would’ve given Clark Kent cramps. After a few months, it worked; I was taken off medication and given a clean bill of health. Of course, being my usual self-destructive self, I decided to celebrate by falling off the wagon. The result was dangerously high blood sugar levels that landed me in the emergency unit on two occasions.

On top of all that, I wasn’t getting much done on the writing front. I was up half an hour before I was to be at work, pausing only to shave and pack breakfast. I would eat a bowl of sweetened fruit for breakfast (at work), and drink about three gallons of coffee to get through the day. I would tell myself that I would accomplish whatever herculean task I had planned that night. The problem was, I was so wiped out by the time I came home that I would often promise myself that I would get to it “tomorrow”. Then, inevitably, the week would come to an end, all of those ‘tomorrows’ would catch up to me and I’d end up cursing myself every Friday for allowing myself to get buried in work. Sometimes I could dig myself out of it, others not, and I rarely wound up satisfied with the end result.

Then, I tried this ‘balance’ thing that everyone kept talking about.

A few weeks ago, I altered my routine. Nothing drastic, mind you, just a few changes here and there to accommodate the dual purpose of keeping my blood sugar in check and writing every day. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made; I accomplish about three thousand words a week, I stay on top of my social networking, and I haven’t registered a high blood sugar reading in almost three weeks. As an added bonus, my girlfriend doesn’t complain (as much) about me taking time away from her. To give her credit, she puts up with a lot. I’ve tried to ensure she knows I appreciate her sacrifice.

I thought I’d share my routine, since it works for me. If you take something from it or want to pass along advice, feel free.

7:00am-7:45am: Up; check blood sugar, light workout that includes pushups, situps, shadowboxing, and pilates, shave, prep breakfast. Automatic coffee maker makes life so much easier.

7:45am-9:00am: Breakfast; this has become my favorite part of the day, because this is when I do my best writing. Breakfast is Honey-Nut Cheerios, coffee with cinnamon, and a bowl of strawberries/blueberries. My writing goal is five hundred words a day and one completed chapter a week. So far, I’ve made that goal.

9:10am-9:30am: Walk to work. It’s about a mile, one block of which is an annoyingly and increasingly steep hill.

11:30am-11:45: Mid-morning snack, usually something sugary, I won’t lie. I also try to do ten laps around my office at break, and I owe the people I work with a hug for putting up with the consistent pacing. They’re all very much aware of it. ;-) This is critical; the ten laps I do reduce my blood sugar by maybe ten or fifteen points, which can make the difference between a high and normal reading.

1:30pm-2:30pm: Lunch (usually). It’s either a salad (lettuce, tomato, green onion, jalapenos, sliced chicken and roast beef, shredded sharp cheese, Italian seasoning, and ranch dressing), or, if I didn’t feel like making lunch, the Subway Club. Every so often I slip and get the Big Philly. Considering that the sandwich makes me woozy, I try to stay away from it. I also try to get in twenty laps here.

4:30pm-4:45pm: Final break, ten more laps.

I would like to point out that time ceases to move after the final break when you work in a call center.

6:30pm-6:45pm: The walk home.

I turn into a whirlwind when I get in, showering, making lunch, and doing the dishes by seven or so. I spend a little time on the phone with Molly and the kids, and then dedicate the night to research, twitter, and taking notes. It may not be a perfect system, but it works for me.

Thanks for reading.

Expect an update soon.

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Part One: Red Morning

“Are you sure this is safe?” Bethany asked hesitantly, firmly gripping the outside rail of the bridge behind her. She dared to lean over, peering down four miles into the Atherean Sea below. Vertigo quickly set in as the water challenged her; rising and receding quickly. She leaned back against the cold iron railing, checking the multi-colored elastic rope fastened to her waist. Jayce, her older brother to her right, looked into the clear blue ocean as though he couldn’t wait to dive–again. Shirtless, wings pinned at his back, he was nearly hyperventilating with excitement. “Yes, Beth.” He replied, trying not to show impatience. “Look, this was your idea. If you’d rather we took you home…”

“I don’t wanna go home…” Beth objected, shaking her head, mindful that she was grasping the railing. “I just didn’t know how far a fall it was and…”

Darryl, older brother on the left, looked to Jayce knowingly. “I told you she was too little for this.”

Jayce smirked. Beth whirled on her brother. “I am not too little! I’m almost eight!”

Darryl reached down to Bethany, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we try this again, Beth, when you’re nine? It won’t look so scary then…” His tone was blatantly condescending, and Beth scowled. “I’m not scared!” She lied, “Watch, I’ll even go first!”

Darryl and Jayce watched with astonished terror as Bethany threw herself from the bridge, plummeting headfirst towards the sea. They leapt after her, arms outstretched to catch her even as she placed her arms at her sides, accelerating.

She closed her eyes and smiled; the wind frapping against her face, the scent of fresh sea-salt, and the seagulls calling in the distance as though welcoming her…for a moment, she understood why her brothers did this for fun.

Then she nearly forgot what she was supposed to do.

She opened her eyes and outstretched her arms–the water was now yards away and closing fast–she had to focus, focus…thirty yards, twenty yards, ten yards…

Now she could hear her brother’s Reaching into her head, yelling at her in genuine horror, screaming at her to loose her wings, for paralysis was only scant feet away The water was so close that she could perceive stripes of swimming fish…

Something burst from her shoulder blades; her descent leveled out and saved her from what would’ve been a disastrous belly flop–why didn’t the rope break?–and she quickly found herself arcing upwards, forcing her wings to flap, pushing the wind behind her, and rising to safety–

A deafening, bone-crunching impact was heard below as something hit the water with so much force that droplets shot several feet up. Instinctively, she Reached out to her brothers even as she turned…and could only feel Jayce. His attention was now entirely focused on Darryl, and Bethany realized with horror that she had been given the wrong rope; Darryl’s swung lifelessly in the breeze, hanging from the bridge.

Bethany heard Jayce use the knife he kept at his ankle to cut his own rope and fall freely into the water.

Then all was silent.

Not even the seagulls could be heard after a moment. The world went still.

Bethany Reached; nothing conscious came back; only wrenching, horrible agony from deep within the water. She stifled tears as she tried not to imagine how much pain the fall had caused Darryl. Strangely, she could no longer feel Jayce.

Suddenly exhausted as she realized she had not stopped flapping her new wings, Bethany hung in the air and dropped slowly towards the water. She frowned, certain that her eyes were playing tricks; the water appeared discolored as she drew closer, opaque and…

by Yang, is that a leg…?!

Something exploded through the surface, something that stole the breath from her body. It was pale blue, eight long tentacles that shot upwards towards her, threatening to draw her into an monstrous center that was only teeth. It roared like nothing she’d heard before, like metal scraping against metal.

Bethany tried to flap and push herself away from the thing, but it shot its eight arms downward and rocketed towards her. Terrified, whimpering as the thing came for her, Bethany tried to turn and fly away, but it managed to take hold of her left wing and tore it off, yanking violently to severe the feathery muscles.

Bethany’s vision swam; she couldn’t scream as she fell. As consciousness left her, she didn’t feel the pleasantness that accompanied a body going into self-healing; this was something else, something wrong, as though she would never open her eyes again.

Fear kept her awake, but only barely. The thing eating her was distracted; busy drinking the blood that ran from her wound into the sea. It was down there, waiting for her…what is that thing…

Something caught her; the sudden jolt momentarily brought her back to her senses. She looked up to her rescuer and saw Darryl, a look of pain and horror unlike anything she’d ever seen on him before; bleeding from his head, bite marks on both arms, wings shredded, she could feel a few fingers of his missing…along with one of his legs. He wasn’t blinking; she didn’t even think he was breathing. He was ascending on pure willpower, trying to get them back to the bridge before…

The metal roar erupted from behind them. Bethany looked down and saw that the Thing was coming back for them. Darryl grunted and hurled Bethany up towards the bridge with everything he had. The Thing wrapped a tentacle around Darryl’s waist and yanked him back towards the sea; Bethany managed to cling the railing before watching him dragged under.

Stay awake, she told herself, forcing herself over the railing and collapsing on the other side. She could no longer walk, think…she reached out helplessly to a carriage passing by and was relieved as they slowed down. “Help me…please…”

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Atherean Defenders: Red Morning (Excerpt)

A deafening, bone-crunching impact was heard below as something hit the water with so much force that droplets shot several feet up. Instinctively, she Reached out to her brothers even as she turned…and could only feel Jayce. His attention was now entirely focused on Darryl, and Bethany realized with horror that she had been given the wrong rope; Darryl’s swung lifelessly in the breeze, hanging from the bridge.

Bethany heard Jayce use the knife he kept at his ankle to cut his own rope and fall freely into the water.

Then all was silent.

Not even the seagulls could be heard after a moment. The world went still.

Bethany Reached and nothing conscious came back; only wrenching, horrible agony from deep within the water. She stifled tears as she tried not to imagine how much pain the fall had caused Darryl. Strangely, she could no longer feel Jayce.

Suddenly exhausted as she realized she had not stopped flapping her new wings, Bethany hung in the air and dropped slowly towards the water. She frowned, certain that her eyes were playing tricks; the water appeared discolored as she drew closer, opaque and…

by Yang, is that a leg…?!

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