In my job, I get paid to be a frontline service to people. My job is to listen to what they need and offer what I can to help them either decide what they would want and to help ease their frustration. I sometimes get paid to hear about their losses and their daily struggles. Yes, I work in customer service. In a call centre. The call centre of a utility company.
Writing about it makes it sound rewarding. I can twist and reposition something that would typically be rather frustrating on the surface to something that is invaluable. At least for it to seem that way. I could choose to see it as a pain (in all honesty, I do choose to see it as a pain most of the time), but I created it. I created it because I wanted the exact job I have now when I was 16 and I knew two people who went and worked there. On the surface, they made really good money, they didn’t have to deal with the same ridiculous people (untrue), they had “security”. Whatever that meant to a 16 year old me. I look back and chuckle.
Anyhow, contribution. Instead of taking a victim role, I’m beginning to see money as an exchange for contribution. For value, even if it’s merely perceived value. For example, nobody needs a Snuggie. People who like to sit with blankets and hate coordinating the blanket so it doesn’t touch the floor or expose their frozen selves think it’s a genius idea. It’s about the level of true value or perceived value you can offer and how effectively you can execute that.
In my situation, I respect the amount of money I earn based on my level of contribution. In a small way, I have a lot of control. I can choose to behave in a way that can make or ruin someone’s day, I can choose to sabotage my company’s profits by not being accountable for upselling and keeping information current. I could even abuse the company’s unlimited sick time. Though I don’t. I realize that I need to be where I am so I can build the confidence in my ability to contribute more.
It feels amazing admitting that in all honesty.