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PMS? No, Just Ranting about a Greedy Corporation

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There’s nothing like appalling customer service to get a gal looking lively.

I’d like to share a rant with you about my very own experience with Fed-Ex.

I’d like to send this post out to the wonderfully frustrating and totally incompetent folks at Fed-Ex.

First of all, let me say thank you for the multitude of voicemail messages that were left (from an international phone number to my mobile phone – morons) after you attempted to deliver a package to the wrong door.

Thank you.

Thank you for not attempting to deliver the parcel to the office, “…because [you] didn’t think they would accept it”. I’m so glad you indiscriminately used your own logic despite a detailed delivery instruction to do just that. How refreshing – independent thinkers.

I’m sure Fed-Ex is not the only inept delivery service, although this is the second time they’ve screwed up in the past few months. Previously they did not deliver a parcel to my place of business because it didn’t look like the address, despite having the street and number clearly marked on a sign by the road.

I have a feeling that what is likely happening here, and I could be wrong, is that the driver’s get paid by delivery rather than a salary or hourly rate. Why take a chance that where the customer requested the package be dropped off will actually accept said package when it would take more time? I can make a guess as to why not; they’re over-worked, underpaid, and time literally is money.

There’s so much of this ludicrously medieval hiring practice happening, that it’s ruining our social well-being, and only serving to satisfy the wealthy. Just look at the rise of luxury good sales. Which, incidentally targets a paltry percentage of the population. I’m sure the delivery lady who left a cryptic message with such a strong foreign accent that it was undecipherable, won’t be shopping for a three-thousand dollar purse this weekend.

Just a word to companies a la Fed-Ex who offer shitty customer service; treat your employees better and you’ll have more satisfied customers. Word of mouth is powerful.

Oh yah, I’ve already made arrangements to go and pick up the package myself (God forbid we ever lose door-to-door with Canada Post). So stop calling me, you incompetent morons.

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Customer Service: The Art of Joy

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Goose. Yep. That was the message delivered from the ‘Animal Spirit Guides’ deck that was gifted to me this past Christmas.

Goose? When I think of a goose, I think of the absurd waddling they do, their plump bodies, and the way that they disguise their natural survival instincts with the appearance of total oblivion to anything other than pooping on paved park paths and wandering in circles.

This was my first week back to reality after two weeks of holiday time, away from the office, social media, housework, parenting, and anything else that required attire more formal than a bathing suit.

Having been a good-girl, I came home with some extra spending money, and decided that I could afford to treat myself to a dress that I saw while visiting The Bitter End. So, I ordered it. What ensued has been a miserable experience with HiHo Clothing’s Customer Service department, and an even more frustrating time with UPS. Lessons learned; just buy the damn dress, use FedEx, buy local.

What does this experience have to do with the Goose totem? Well, frist of all, I thought of the saying, ‘Silly
Goose’, which in my wee little girl brain means a doddering woman who is naive, and weak. Drawing the Goose totem also meant just taking an inward glance at my own attitude. A return to ‘real life’ always means kicking into high professional, domestic, and everything-else high-gear. In short, it sucked.

But why?” I asked myself over and over. Why did it feel so icky to be back to a life that I had created for myself? I love my job. I love my kid. I don’t live in a castle, but I also don’t have to shovel my own snow or mow my own grass, so it all evens out.

Satisfaction. That’s what I think it boils down to. I am very rarely satisfied with what I have, and continually strive to be better, to have more, to do more. What a lunatic!

Which leads me to believe that the atrocious lack of customer service at HiHo and UPS is a result of people showing up do to a job, get a pay-cheque, and leave to get back to their real life. It also likely means that the employees likely don’t have a great working environment, but that’s just my opinion. Rarely do satisfied employees metaphorically flip you the bird by hanging up on you or not responding to email. Satisfied employees have time to address customer questions and respond in a way that makes everyone feel warm and fuzzy.

Newsflash; Your job is your real life. Those moments on the clock are about being yourself and being of service to others, whether it’s solving problems, creating something brilliant, or cleaning up a bathroom stall so we don’t all die of some poop-bacteria-related disease.

So, as I caution you against the exceptional lack of customer service which abounds, I also challenge you to take a little look inside and ask yourself if you too are being a customer service asshole (that’s French for being useless).

Watching myself transform into an uptight-bot within 24 hours of arriving back to my ‘real world’, I took the advice of the Goose. I slowed down, took a look around and marveled at just how far I’d come, and with that attitude, I carried on with my week, trying to be kind, at work, home, and everywhere else. Most importantly, I reminded myself that it’s ok to relax, breathe deeply and trust my own value.

Doing that doesn’t make me a weak, naïve woman. It makes me healthy, helpful, and energized.

So go on ladies, dare to be a goose. Dare to create a life you life with joy.

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PMS for Christmas

Fireball Whisky
Fireball Whisky (Photo credit: Houston Marsh)

Today was the day.

The day I wanted to say, “I told you so”, to all of the cynics who read my blog about doing Christmas shopping extra early.

It was also the day I wanted to flip the bird to non-advanced-green-drivers and customer service teenloafs who work hard at avoiding customers or service, harder than they do at actually working.

It was the day I decided I’d rather chew glass than be in touch with the man for whom my fridge is filled with dark beer who makes me about as much a priority as clipping his toe nails.

But, having been a meditation and spiritual practitioner for years, I knew that the only thing to do to tame the PMS beast was to put my aggressive energy to work.  I decorated the house, scrubbed the bathroom, and put a roast in the oven, all in under two and a half hours. Yowsa mamma!

No matter what I do today, unless it involves a deliciously devilish drama on my duvet followed by a fabulous fling by the fireplace, I will feel less than sated.

So, being fully aware of my own limits, mamma has her hooch lined up for either a great read, or a totally indulgent chick flick. I also have a Mai-Tai mix chilling in case I need to prepare for a night of hot lovin’s with a long, hot, Leonard Cohen serenaded soak.

After the blinds are drawn, unless you come bearing your manhood under the mistletoe, or great gobs of chocolate and champagne, stay away, stay far, far away.