fulfillment

There's something my mind frequently dreads the days that I'm scheduled to work. "How long will it take for someone to demean my character today?" I ask myself. To the average person, technical support is something you don't want to go through. Much like calling an ambulance for medical help. Nobody wants to do it, but sometimes you have to.

You can save a life in multiple ways, whether it's through medicine and medical services or saving their entire business through software repair. I may not have a doctorate in medicine, but I do try to save lives, or livelihoods for that matter, every day I work. I'm not a miracle-worker, nor a magician, though the qualities I do exhibit have been through years of studying, breaking-and-fixing, and learning from my mistakes. And yet, some people simply don't give a shit. I can work for seven, eight or more hours, skipping meals and staring at a screen trying to save a persons entire business, but at times cannot prevail.

In their eyes, it's my fault. It's my fault they didn't have a backup of their data. It's my fault they don't have a second computer in case the first one outright breaks. It's my fault it took their nine-year-old computer 20 minutes to turn on. It's my fault they deleted their address book without checking to see if they had a backup. It's my fault their printer has physically broken. It's my fault they waited until April 14th to file taxes, but their tax software isn't working. It's my fault I am trying my absolute best to find a solution, but sometimes can't.

The average customer doesn't process that there's another person typing from the other side. Another human being, with emotions, people they care about, and personal lives they have to live. Me. Time and time again I am verbally abused because they feel that the person on the other side of the pixels on their screen is emotionally dead; a robot. Someone in India paid minimum wage to provide technical support.

Disposable.

The rare times I can't fix your issue, I'm called a piece of shit and useless.

Those words don't disappear. Clicking the "Clock Out" button doesn't make the hurt disappear. I don't step away from my computer at the end of my work shift to drive home, pick up food from the grocery store, and sit down with my family, erasing the verbal abuse I received earlier. I step away from my computer, walk to my bathroom and splash warm water on my face. I then sit down and talk with loved ones and friends over Skype, masking the words that were typed to me earlier. But the words still stick. I will remember those words tomorrow. I will remember them the day after. They will eventually fade, only to be rekindled by verbal abuse another day.

But I still smile. Mostly genuine, sometimes not. There's much in life to smile about.

Perhaps the eight years I've worked in technical support have me tired. I yearn for something else. The fulfillment I received from fixing things in years past is dead. One computer fixed, another problem on my table. One in, one out. It's a numbers game now. The thought has been dwelling on my mind for some time now. A new challenge; a change of pace.

I want to travel. I want to see new places, see new people, and teach new things. The world is so big with so many places to go and so many people to see. I grow tired of sitting behind a screen, only to help ungrateful customers. I seek fulfillment on another level.

But what?