My Job Is Pulling My Hair Out...Literally

The fourty-five minute drive to Lexington is totally worth it. Especially when twenty minutes after I arrive, I'm handed a phone headset to wear to cut down on speaker usage disturbing those working within three feet of me. I've officially entered the world of the phone operator.

It took a good half an hour to setup myself. And even after that it didn't work. I got one of the Voice engineers to come over and tell me I needed to push the "Headset" button. Brilliant.

After that, the day proved trying. The thing is comfortable enough, but only after swapping out the hang-on-your-ear hard-as-nails configuration. From then on, I experience several things you'd expect to see in an hysterical montage of workplace buffoonery: the headset ripping my glasses off, a mess of confusing wires, hitting the wrong buttons and swearing at customers, cutting back to me entangled in the previous chaotic mess of wires, hitting things, hitting people, writhing on the floor screaming amidst a wire cocoon. Then I saw it: the headset hanging on its out of place holster, and a single hair alighted atop it, follicle and all.

Twenty-seven isn't that old is it? Time to go!