Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Strange. . .

I think I've entered a weird stage in this career/searching for a job/life thing.

Ever since I joined an ADHD list on Yahoogroups, I've discovered a lot of "symptoms" of ADHD-Inattentive that I may have. I've mentioned this before. Being conscious of these things gives me a strange sense of empowerment and "What do I do about it?"

I think we all enjoy learning about ourselves, but sometimes the things that I learn make me question the things that I've learned before. My sense of myself and reality has somewhat flipped inside out.

Over the last week or so, I've run into barriers regarding my writing, something I had always thought I excelled at. Tons of people complimented me on my writing. I got up to my senior year of college, working on a novel and writing a thesis. Even now, I think those same people still enjoy my writing. I don't doubt my writing when it comes to certain styles, like on this Blog, journaling, even novel writing.

Lately, though, at work I've been swinging back and forth from giving so much information that I confuse clients and fearing that I don't give enough that they might assume something incorrect. I want to find a happy in between.

I also have found myself swinging back and forth between acting like a hard ass on clients and trying to figure out how flexible I can be without causing a problem with the company.

I don't have any immediate examples that come to mind except dealing with a certain product. Most insurance companies want to have their client insure their homes for the full amount that it takes to replace their home. A couple of these companies have an endorsement called Guaranteed Replacement Cost, which means if the house burns down or somthing, the company will pay whatever it takes to put the house back up. The crux of the problem: do I try convincing the customer that has Guaranteed Replacment Cost to increase their limits or do I just let it go and hope that nothing happens?

So yeah. . .I have a lot of spectrums that I have to ride on any day at work. I have to strike a lot of balances. I have to act as sales person while also regulating customers so that they don't cheat the insurance company. Then I ge to try looking out for customers when they don't necessarily want coverage. They just want what they need to satisfy their mortgage company.

I get frustrated and flustered. I guess I find assessing a person difficult -- their personality, what they want out of the interaction, how I can satisfy them, etc. etc.

I also get frustrated because I would like to have a genuine interaction with these people. My dad, my boss, somehow does it. I don't really get it.

Of course, there's always the fact that I don't necessarily want to work in insurance, in the first place.

Nonetheless, all this frustration and doubt has gotten me thinking about my future potential career. I wonder how I will get into public relations or copy writing when I have some trouble writing letters and trying to interact with customers on something of an everyday basis.

My mind has somewhat just filled up with a bunch of flustering frustration. It has gone blank.

So I fall back on the refrain of life has a learning curve. I'll figure out something sometime. I'm sure a bit of the stuff going through my head has to do with the changes going on in my life these days.

More on that later, though. Now I need sleep.


Shaw Israel Izikson said...

if I told you some people, even at 55, still are trying to assess what kind of career they should go into, would you believe me?

The_Lex said...

You know. . .I think I just might believe you.

I think part of my problem comes from knowing that I want to write fiction. . .but that doesn't make money. . .and I really don't care as much about other stuff other than maybe caring about people. . .but that's hard in its own right.

And I also need money to live.


Shaw Israel Izikson said...

yea - well, I want to write - and I am, but I am barely getting any money.

Yet, maybe if I keep trying hard enough....

I'll probably wind up destitute on the street (yet again).

Don't take my advice, mang. I'm such a bad influence.