Nothing to prove
Or disprove
About yourself
Or to yourself

None of us
Have to
"Go to" anyone
And the idea
That we do is
A mental illness

We can't keep
Going to
Each other
Until we learn
To go to
Ourselves

Stop making
Our hatred of
Ourselves
Someone else's
Job

Improving
I had a good talk with the manager
About my numbers the account and sales
You need to do this and that

Yes I shall do my best boss
Here are my suggestions
To make the account better

First there is…
Next there is this…
Followed by this…
And lastly this…

Please see that this is done boss
So the account is smooth
Without issue or trouble

What a good meeting we had
I’m so glad the boss listened
Much will improve

Not Hopping
Some trainers in the BPO industry
Have worked in 20 or 30 different places
Brian met 2 or more such trainers
Both had worked in dozens of centres
Between a month’s training and years
Finally settling down to train others
Being Hoppers no more job to job
Instilling their skills info knowledge
With wisdom guidance mind set
It takes skill to be a trainer
And something else to excel
Getting the next generation ready
Reps support trainers OMs

Cashing
A call centre job is a slave job
Like digging holes in the road
Or painting a truck with a toothbrush
Go work in a call centre
Do this do that all at once!
Multi task you’re all smart
Do more than one thing at once
We trained you and pay you
You’re the best so get on with it!
Make us some ****** money

In my work I can

add trumps and do everything --


if it comes off well.

Because you are a dear, dear friend,
as dear as you can be;
A person sweet, a joyous treat
to work here next to me.

Of greatest wealth your superb health,
until a cold you catch;
The bills, the phone, you can't stay home,
and so a plan you hatch.

To work I'll go, I must not show,
that really I feel lousy;
No pills I'll take for goodness sake,
that could cause me to be drowsy.

Your nose will run, you'll say "Oh ***,
a tissue may I borrow?
Please do not lock your tissue box,
I'll pay you back tomorrow!"

So,
Because you are a dear, dear friend,
and I would not want to miss you;
This HOLIDAY SEASON my special gift,
YOUR VERY OWN BOX OF TISSUE!

~
Lipstick to void. She is a race against time. The beveled past a disruption in her lines of influence.

Travel is dangerous, and tonight it darkens the highway of blood vessels coursing through her extremities. She wants to be luminous and under the skin.

While Dorothy dreams of tornadoes in Kansas, she dreams of remote climbs in lesser Glasgow, of party drugs in Tokyo. How many lights does she see?

In her hair are sixty circuits. But she waits, religiously inclined on the hotel bed. She drove through ghosts to get here wearing nothing but Las Vegas.

So strange at this hour, in a city full of sleepwalkers for the taking, she now dreams she's a bulldozer, she now dreams she's alone in an empty field.
~

Do I hate my job?

No, not enough to quit and --


start doing nothing.