The last hour of the shift always puts me on edge. On one hand it's such a relief knowing I've survived one more day without ever shedding blood, but on the other hand it seems like this is where all the dormant stress-inducers suddenly pounce at me and bite me in the ass.
I can understand that it's most probably because of the fact that 10:30 PM here is 8:30 AM CST -- the time when most of our customers are alive and all cranked up when composing their lovely, lovely emails for us. Add to that the all too often misplaced eagerness of the agents to go home and not wanting to think anymore, it all sums up to quite a gut-wrenching 59 minutes, with me conveniently at the receiving end of the spectrum.
Never mind that I still have reports to finish before the hour is up, people will still indiscriminately shout my name from the other end of the room just to ask about a very simple problem we have been talking about again and again and again which, for some undecipherable reason, does not stick to whatever goo replaced their brains with! Do they not see it?! DO THEY NOT SEE IT?!?!
[Insert unintelligible shrieks of frustration here.]
In fairness, I still manage to give my BEST smile and offer the highest level of assistance to anyone who may ask it of me AND finish my reports on time to boot.
But oh goddess, I need something smashed at the end of the day. Please.
