One month ago, I made it official and left behind a five year career path in Information Technology. My decision came about after gradually growing uptight and cramped—sitting in that office chair for eight to twelve hours, day after day, trying to explain to frustrated folks how to fix complicated computer shit over the phone. Your standard hardboard cubicles. Stale florescent lighting. Microphone headsets. Water coolers. Engineers. Physicians. Proud, new Cadillac vehicle owners. Smart phone enthusiast beatniks. An endless sea of idealistic contractors. Once the gadgets broke and there was no discernible, instant resolution: I’d answer the everlasting calls for help, and the person on the other end of the line was (more often than not) an absolutely miserable, entitled ass.
I suppose I came to my senses and realized (perhaps too late or too soon) that I’m not the kind of person that is wired to do technical support for a living. Let alone, rot in an industrial call center. Indeed, it pays very comfortably—for a long-term, everyday procedure: it’s simply not worth it for me.
For a technician who had been too lazy to seal the deal with an A+ certification, I think it’s fair to say that I got by as a pretty good one. B+ certified, so don’t expect me to clarify exactly just how a protocol allots Microsoft Outlook Email to travel from point A to B, with only thirty seconds to explain, without the use of a Google search engine. Once you learn how to build your own computer (from individually picked-out components) then install an operating system inside it—congratulations. I’m confident that you could land a pretty sweet IT gig from that starting point. Especially if you like to dabble with a few computer games on top of it. Now obviously, if you want to approach it seriously, the knowledge is out there for your fifty pound brain to soak up, and you can crush it in the field. I’ll just leave it by stating that (in a pool of thousands of callers) I’m content on leaving Boeing / Dell with a monthly average customer satisfaction rating (CSAT) never dipping below 97%. I often joked with my callers on why they just didn’t call Google, a.k.a ‘Google it, dude.’ On the other hand, some folks will [gladly] pay you to do the painstaking research for them. So, it worked out. Things got fixed, and luckily my corny joke game was usually not too overbearing. Thus, bills were paid.
The more enticing profession for myself, for as far back as I can remember, has been in design. This only sits right above my absurd desire on becoming a grand master Karate instructor, but I gave up that dream when I was, like, four.
Kickstarting off this new venture into design for trade, Gemini was the alias of my first client. When the project wrapped up, in the end, he was enthusiastically satisfied with the final graphic that I rendered for him. When it came down to the cash payment, he surprisingly overpaid me. He also referred me to a few of his friends, and now I have a new client. As much as I would like to declare that I lived happily ever after this, the truth is that I’m still fighting back the ambivalence from this entire changeover. It’s as if I made it through the auditions for that show The Voice, but the little demon inside my head keeps insisting that my performance will sound as bangin’ as Florence Foster Jenkins, and I’m Meryl Streep.
A shaggy moth, freshly-oozed out of it’s rigid chrysalis, anxiously pondering the possibility of flight. My back feels a hell of a lot better though.