I arrive to work at 8:02 AM. The VP gives me the stink eye for being two minutes late. I get to my desk and check my overflowing stream of emails. As I read I listen to the sound of the guy in the cubicle next door plan an affair with a coworker; consumerism at its finest. Behind me, an autistic Asian woman phones a member, asking for overdue payment on delinquent credit accounts. My blood begins to boil. It used to boil with hatred and resentment. It now boils with excitement to tell these sorry mother F*ckers sayonara. I envision the feeling of my next sale. I live in this feeling - it gives me hope. The vision of injecting value into someone's life, their face lighting up with relief and happiness as they trade their money for my solution. If I had a tail it'd be wagging. "MR. JONES, ACCOUNT IS 180 DAYS PAST DUE. YOU MUST PAY NOW." I think about the excitement of building a brand, and talking to customers to continue improving it. The thought of being someone's hero gives me more focus than aderrall. My screen flashes, a manager asks if I have any time to help with an issue that came up this morning. "Of course!". Helping is a habit. 8:07.
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