Back from the dead, and broke
music: Devil Gate Drive Waking Up For the Enemy
No, I haven't died. I've been living in Auckland, with no horrible customer service nightmares to textually dramatise for your bemusement... Just day upon day of not having to answer phones, applying for new jobs, and depleting my bank balance.
Just when I thought it was all over (ie $1000 past over...) I got a call today from a record store while standing across the road from the National Bank on Queen St, that was cordoned off by the police in order to investigate a suspicious package that looked remarkably like a homeless man's belongings. So the call means that as of next week I'm a minimum wage slave at a record store in town... YAY!!! Man, this rules. It means I can adjust the angle of this blog to not only be about customer service, but the crap music the customers purchase! YAY!!! No more moaning about money... which to be honest, you loyal readers all missed out on. YAY!!!
I'm off to adjust the crap about power companies and call centres, etc.