Which IT Crowd character am I?: Observations from my new job

Previously, I mentioned how tempting it was to stay at the bottom of my hole of failure. Turns out I underestimated the urge to wallow. Sorry for not posting in (over) a month.

I guess that's part of starting a new project. You leap off - bright eyed, bushy tailed, and other cliches – with all these goals in mind. But habits die hard. And Tumblr isn't going to read itself. And there's a lot of stuff on Netflix that needs to be watched.

But within my extended period of wallowing, I peppered in small achievements. I donated 12 inches of hair to Wigs for Kids (which I still need to mail off). I created a new workout schedule (but haven't signed up at the gym). I got my wisdom teeth removed (and discovered that I will never be at risk of abusing Vicodin – another story for another time). And most importantly, I got a new job! In IT! 

And let me tell you, the IT Crowd got so much right.

I might not be in a basement and my coworkers may not be Moss-like, but we are sequestered into what may be the tiniest room on the floor. Recycled air is pumped through dirty filters. Too much equipment to fit in too small a space...

I've been hired to be Jen – brand new to IT and, though hopelessly non-technical, can talk really pretty and reassure customers on the phone while everyone else does the tech work. Also I don't really know what my company does...

And yet, in the three weeks I've been here, I feel like my knowledge of IT has really grown.

For example: 3 things fix (almost) everything:

1. Reboot
2. Password reset
3. Make sure everything's plugged in properly.

Once we get past that, you get into the weird questions. We know the questions are weird. Bear with us. Hopefully we'll find the point where we can communicate clearly. (Though usually it's just faster to remote in and fix the problem yourself.)

Sidenote: if you're an English major and want to use it, get a job answering phones in IT. Thanks to me, the entire department has a plethora of new ways to tell people gently that their account was terminated; "temporarily suspended" is my current favorite. And the rest of my day is spent coming up with variations on the phrase, “Have you turned it off and on again?” and finding a nice way to call people idiots - which is hard when biting sarcasm is your go-to move.

That said, sometimes highly educated people are often the stupidest people. You'll discover this when you have to explain to a doctor what a web browser is. Or an address bar. Or a PC.

When you call into IT and you're lucky enough to reach a human, please remember common courtesy. Like if you're going to bad mouth me, mute your phone. Just because I put you on hold doesn't mean I can't still hear you call me an idiot. 

Don't call at lunch.

Don't call at 5.

Don't complain when you call at lunch or at 5 and get expedited service. We're tired, hungry, and have to pee. We'll call you back when we take care of all that. Trust us, we'll all be happier that way.

And we'll close with my favorite surprise of my job:

IE isn't the worst browser ever? Especially when the continuing education product all your clients have to run is like the biggest dinosaur ever and hates every. Single. Other. Browser. Yes I know that's technically “our” problem but that brings me to the second (and final) point:

Any time the company decides to revolutionize/improve some system, everything goes to shit. Every. time. And we're sorry. Your struggles give us struggles. Be patient.

I really can't stress the patience part enough. Please be patient. Companies are notorious for under estimating how many people to employ for IT Support. I think my office has 6 people dealing directly with clients from literally everywhere in the nation. Everyone's having issues. That's why my job exists. And it takes us a long ass time to get through them all. 

Be good to your IT drones. We love you.

Please hold while I transfer you to your next entry...

Yesterday I failed.

Fresh from graduation and with the looming threat of student debt, I snatched the first job that would have me. I convince myself I could do it. After all, I had done everything else that had come before.

Nope. Yesterday I failed.

After only a week of work – days of learning and success followed by nights of praying dear god(s)/universe/anything that'll listen please let me make my goal – I broke down in tears in front of the assistant manager and the owner

...

I guess the first thing you need to know about me is that I'm a perfectionist. I know that title gets thrown out a lot, especially as a masked strength/weakness in job interviews. Which a) is pretty much the stupidest way to answer the stupidest interview question and b) trivializes perfectionism as a legit weakness. My personal brand likes to manifest itself in two ways:

1. I never do anything because I'm so terrified of failure. I adopt a 'give-no-shits' attitude and coast through life, taking no chances because chances mean vulnerability and vulnerability means pain and certain failure
2. If I do convince myself to do something, I will do it perfectly. I will swallow the stress and do it. No matter the roadblocks. No matter the crippling anxiety. No matter the festering depression. No matter anything. I will do it and it will be perfect.

Yesterday I didn't do that. Yesterday I failed.

...

And what really killed me is that I did everything right. I was good at this. I learned all the theories and applied them in the field. I made goals and I achieved them. I closed every day. In the week that I worked, I was one of the top performing salespeople, outpacing veterans of the business. I was on the fast track to promotion and accolades were pouring in.
But as I sat in an empty room waiting for that morning meeting, the deep unhappiness I had suppressed all week washed over me. And as I tried to suppress it again - resuppress? - I tried to blame everything else: the week's tragedies in Boston and Texas (both places I have personal ties to), customers cancelling sales – anything that wasn't me.

Because I was doing it all right. I was perfect.

And somewhere in between that and trying to convince my boss that sending a distraught, near hysterical salesperson into the field isn't exactly the greatest business strategy, I realized that this was probably the lowest I'd felt in years.

I'd like to say that in that moment, I suffered an epiphany that immediately refreshed my spirits. I'd like to say I told my boss off for being insensitive and quit on the spot and walked out of that office, eyes bloodshot, mascara smeared, but with my head held high as I jauntily sashayed to my car.

But this isn't a movie and exits are never as justly poetic as you fantasize.

Instead, I crept out of that office, head ducked in shame, and busted out crying as I pulled my car out of the parking lot – only to realize I had a coworker's belongings in the backseat, which meant I had to go back in.

So much for a graceful exit.

And as I cried on my way home – and at home – I debated staying with the job. Even though I knew how emotionally taxing it was and I knew that my commission was tanking by the hour and I'd lost my momentum toward promotion. Surely the vague promise of an easy paycheck was worth the festering depression.

And quitting would mean admitting failure. And I don't fail.

Today, I quit. Today, they said they're disappointed in me. They can't be that disappointed. They've only known me a week. I've known myself 23 years. I've had 23 years to be disappointed in myself. This is nothing

Today they said I failed. Wrong. Yesterday, I failed. Today, I gather the broken pieces and try and shape something new.

All the motivational posters say the only way to go from here is up. I disagree. There's still an awful lot of dirt and shit down here I can bury in. And it's tempting to say here at the bottom of my hole. I'm not ready to go sticking my neck out there again, but I can at least admit the failure.

It may not seem like the biggest step but at least it's forward motion.

So how's that for an introduction?