Julius Caesar crossed his Rubicon and went on to fame. Today this writer crossed a Rubicon of sorts, and goes on to? Either I am impractical, with a head full of rocks, or I am going to prove that a woman does not necessarily have to live on just bread, but more so on faith in God. I gave my notice of resignation to my boss today, with nothing concrete to replace this "steady" job. I have not yet heard, nor have I asked: "Are you nuts?"

I don't know about other jobs, but it appears that the job of customer service in much of American industry, means becoming a reverse sandwich, a piece of bread (the customer service person) between two hunks of meat, the customer and the employer, with no mayo. I did not mind being crushed by Joe Public, meat #1. It is the sledgehammer wielded by hunk of meat #2 that did me in.

Those in my position have to deal with two clearly incompatible corporate goals. We are supposed to be "advocates" for the callers, but if we are in the process of "advocating" and our scheduled breaks and lunch come around, and we miss those scheduled times, then we have crossed the border into "non compliance" with the schedule. So what is an advocate to do? Do we tell the advocated ones, that the train is leaving the station and we have to run? Do we get a dose of Preparation H to get in "compliance?" Where is Albert Einstein when we need him?

I do want to make the point that we really should not bear too much animosity towards the overseers who administer the policy of their masters. These overseers are doing their jobs under very  difficult circumstances,  living in fear of being replaced. The brown stuff keeps rolling downhill and they calculate that if they are not to be buried, it should be deflected.... downward. When one has a family to feed, one does not delve into a philosophical examination whether one is straddling the border between immorality and humanity, and not coming down on the side of humanity. One does what one has to do to survive. It is a human eat human world.

"Shut up you witch." came out of my lips, unbidden. My thoughts finally broke down the  barrier between thought and verbalization, and  poured out of my mouth. I was shocked. I was on the telephone helping a caller, when suddenly almost in my ear I heard the usual yelling about finishing up the calls and taking other calls. I asked the caller if she had heard anything, meaning if she had heard what I had unwittingly muttered.  She had heard nothing. Thank God. I knew then that it was time for this female Elvis, without his singing ability, to leave the building.  Not for a minute did I think that the manager arrives to work on a broom. I like her and I know that she is doing what she thinks that she should be doing. That involuntary muttering was the the result of day after day of being verbally whipped. A letter of resignation was typed that night.

I did some soul searching  and realized that I was on track to losing me, and losing my sense of morality. I was thinking and now uttering derogatory remarks. That is not behavior worthy of a child of God, and will not stand. Prior to that little exchange between my brain and my mouth, my heart had injected itself into the drama. When one of the daily admonishments about finishing up calls and jumping on other calls rang out,  I felt my heart literally move almost as if moving away from the walls of my chest. It was a scary moment.

Choking on water and having my heart do a "paso uno" in my chest, which is more scary? Yep, I had another first at that job. For the first time in my life, I choked on water. Between calls, I decided to quickly chug down some water with one ear out praying that a "reminder" would not be yelled out, to get back on the telephones.  Next time I am going to leave this chugging a jug to the professionals. I spit out the water on my skirt in order to be able to breathe. I sat there gasping for breath like a minnow on a line and when able to speak, sounded like Minnie Mouse. It took me about fifteen minutes to fully recover.

So, the day after "mouth opened and cursing jumped out," I delivered my letter of resignation. The manager tried to talk me out of leaving, praised my work, and thought that I should think about it. I thought about it. I prayed about it. I listened to Evie's advice:

ERCILLE...
DELIVER THAT LETTER TOMORROW MORNING, GIVE THEM ONE WEEK'S NOTICE, WORK IT OUT, AND THEN GET THEE DOWN THE ROAD TO FREEDOM, AND SHAKE THE DUST OF THAT GOD FORSAKEN PLACE OFF THY SANDALS....

DID YOU EVER STOP TO CONSIDER THAT LEAPING OF YOUR HEART WAS GOD TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING??? DID YOU ALSO CONSIDER THAT MAYBE THE STRESS OF THAT HORRIBLE PLACE IS MAKING YOU PHYSICALLY ILL???

MEDITATE ON WHAT GOD WANTS FOR YOU AND THEN GIVE IT OVER TO HIM TO FIGURE OUT FOR YOU.  HE WILL MAKE A WAY FOR YOU TO GO...AND FIND A PLACE FOR YOU.

I got me "down the road to freedom," and will soon  "shake the dust...off my sandals," or at least from my high heels! After the letter was delivered and finally taken, I sent out a farewell e-mail. I later found out that many folks think very highly of me and I am truly appreciative of the sentiments expressed.  I heard that the "mold was broken" after I was made and I am "one of a kind." I would add that some folks are probably saying " and thank God that mold was broken!"  Another coworker stated that she admires my "dedication and quality." 

Yet another wrote:

It was an honor and a privilege to work next to an accomplished author and a living legend. We will miss your dynamic and charismatic presence."

After this, I felt like running for political office! I am a "living legend," even if in the mind of only one coworker!

Humor aside, I feel humbled to know that I was accepted, appreciated and loved in that setting for the past thirteen months.  In the end, it really all comes down to the folks in the trenches, having their hearts almost literally ripped out by the "bottom liners," who have in some cases, become bottom feeders. I am all for the bottom line and profit. I am not that naive. I know that the prevailing thought is that  currency, however accumulated,  makes the world go around. This appears to be the motivating force of those obsessed with the bottom line. I happen to feel that God has a lot to do with this world spinning around.  Speaking of God, I fervently hope that He can wield some influence on the bottom liners in this US  corporate carousel and make them regain a sense of decency and fairness, cut away the calluses from their hearts and have them walk even a few yards in the work boots of the plebes.

When I announced that I was leaving, I was given advice about "playing the system." "Playing the system," means that instead of quitting, I should have gone to the doctor, mentioned the heart episode, gotten diagnosed as suffering from "stress and anxiety," and gone off on leave, leading to perhaps permanent disability. I told one person while I appreciated the advice, I don't "play those games." That little episode where I was given advice, is a good example of what is motivating me to get out. I never want to slip into doing what is morally questionable,  so that I get to the point where such behavior becomes second nature. Long ago,  I heard the term "straight shooter," and I guess decided that I wanted to be one of those, when it comes to being honest. Or maybe the real reason is that I do have to answer to a Higher Authority, and His diagnosis of any "gaming the system" will have much longer lasting repercussions and ramifications, as in eternally.

Do I regret having gone to work at that job? No. I learned a lot about that industry. It was reiterated to me how industrious many human worker bees are out there, motivated by fear of being replaced by either other human worker bees overseas, or "interactive" machines. I have gotten quite a kick out of "interacting " with some of those machines by messing with their logic, by confronting them with illogic behavior. They get flustered every time!

I will always be grateful that I was given the opportunity to earn much needed funds. In return that company can be assured that its return on investment, was repaid with a lot more than a pound of flesh. I leave with a sense of having made a difference, even for the length of a telephone call, in the lives of many callers. Now it can be told. I even offered to pray for some of them, and they were not shy in expressing their gratitude. 

I would also like to think that I made a difference in the lives of some coworkers. Two of them are "conspiring" to get me to remain. They are tag teaming me with various reasons why I don't want to leave.  Another one called me "special" because of something that I did for her. I was simply "paying forward" some of the kindness that had already come my way. In the end, we are indeed our brothers' keepers, united in our ability to be empathic and caring. I would not trade that for any amount of gold or other currency. If am considered a "loser' in the eyes of the "bottom liners/feeders," I proudly plead guilty!

I will hum a chorus of that Rodney Atkins song, "If You're Going Through Hell," as I continue to navigate through this life:

If you're goin' through hell keep on going
Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there.

With God as My Guide, and that smidgen of stubbornness from my late Mom, I will keep going!