Still figuring it out.

Author: The Rat Disco

  • Let’s be honest about tech careers.

    I have worked in the tech industry for almost six years, growing from a customer support rep into some kind of GTM Swiss army knife today. Before that, I was working in a more traditional corporate environment, providing sales and customer service at an insurance company. The difference between these environments is night and day, but neither one really made me feel like I made it.

    When I was working at an insurance company, the work was soul-crushing; it was essentially a call center, and when you’re dealing with increasing premiums, policies that cancelled for non-payment, or policies that were declined because of really specific underwriting concerns, you end up the punching bag. You get screamed at, cursed at, filibustered and held hostage on the line — and you’ve gotta maintain a cool head throughout. I would get a monthly “performance” meeting where my manager would listen to 2 random calls from the whole month and score them, then tell me what I’m doing well and what I need to work on. We had to switch our statuses when we went to the bathroom, or needed to spend a little extra time writing notes after a call. I have genuinely been reprimanded for taking too long in the bathroom of for getting back from my lunch break 2 minutes late.

    In a call center environment, service level is the most important metric. Answer calls quickly, don’t leave people hanging, and resolve their issue. Don’t get stuck on calls, but don’t give bad service. Upsell them when you see an opportunity that they aren’t “taking advantage” of, like life insurance (everybody needs it!!!). Somewhere towards the bottom of the list of things to care about, I assume, is employee happiness.

    For some folks, this was tolerable. The medical insurance provided was decent, the benefits like an annual bonus felt good, and sometimes there was a potluck where you could eat Susan’s famous chili crockpot — never mind that you are 90% sure you have seen her sneezing into her open hand several times in the past week.

    This was not worth it for me. I was miserable. I was working an evening shift, often clocking out at 10 P.M. and getting home close to 11. I would stay up late playing video games or bingeing a show, and then I got to spend my day dreading the fact that work was still coming up. I was making $45,000 when I decided to leave. I got hired at about $40,000. My salary increased $5,000 in 4 years at that company. I was struggling to get by, and struggling to enjoy my life outside of work. That free time was filled with gaming, reading, and some personal writing.

    The pandemic forced us out of the office and back to our homes to try and do the work remote. Something about having to take these awful calls in my own oasis — my comfort cabana, if you will — actually made all of this worse. Home was supposed to be my escape, and now the anger and frustration of the work was attached to it. Under my skin and the floorboards. I had to get out.

    I jumped to do customer support at a tech company for that same salary. At the time, the decision was driven by a few things:

    • The medical coverage was better
    • The hours were during the day
    • It was remote, with a more relaxed environment
    • There was a very loud, consistent promise of growth

    It was weird to want a remote working environment given my frustration with insurance, but there was something about the expected work and the customers the company dealt with that felt non-threatening to me. And every part of the interview was so different. The fact that the interview for my insurance job was essentially 2 sessions (can you handle customer support conversations, and can you type and talk) VS the tech world of multiple interviews with the last being a virtual onsite meeting with 5-6 different people, already signaled that something was bound to be different. And it was. I fell in love with the company and working environment very quickly.

    Early on, I felt like I was genuinely part of something. I received company swag and gifts. We had monthly “self-care” days that were paid days off. I had a strong PTO accrual policy and knew that if I made it to a salaried role, I would get unlimited PTO. I got to use tech-forward software like Intercom rather than clunky enterprise call center tech like Genesys. But the craziest difference was how frequently my manager and skip-level manager talked to me and asked me about the operations. They were genuinely looking for ways to improve different workflows, and they listened to me. A lot. I began to stand out quickly by asking so many questions and making a lot of recommendations. I became obsessed with knowing the product inside and out, and understanding what our customers ask, how they ask it, and how we should best support them.

    Suddenly, I was a prime candidate to help build out our offshore support team with some others. I was able to train and coach reps in a way that gave me a “test run” at people management. Within two years, I went from a customer support rep making $45,000 to a customer support manager making about $75,000. I got to take on the challenge of managing our U.S. support team in a salaried role.

    The reality of that situation was different. It was incredibly hard. I struggled a lot and learned that I’m actually not that great at people management (I’m sure I’ll write about that later). For two more years, I was constantly fighting to manage my own feelings of burnout and inadequacy. I was being stretched and pushed to grow. My management style was extremely empathetic, and that was a problem. I needed to act and give feedback more quickly. I needed to be ready to fire newly hired reps at the earliest signs that they may not be a good fit. I needed to build strategies that plan for the next 18 months of the support environment (how do we scale these teams? build new motions? automate more?). It was a lot of growth and development in those years. I learned so much, but at a significant cost.

    In 2025 I was able to shift my role into a CX operations focus. I could test and experiment with different motions while building out what those things would look like if and when adopted by other teams. This was where I thrived. As an independent contributor with a lot of autonomy and authority over my work, I was very skilled. Things adapted over time and I continue to do that CX work today, with caveats.

    The trust I have earned at my company is amazing. I report up to the Executive Leadership team. I provide strategic guidance to different teams, and then I get to put on my CX Ops or GTM Engineering hat to build 0-to-1 processes for people to take over. I talk to customers within interesting cohorts that we may want to better prioritize. I work independently and collaboratively with analytics to see lots of data visualizations that help tell stories about what our customers are doing. In many ways, I’m doing something I genuinely never expected to be able to do in my career. And I’m making over $100,000 to do it.

    So, is it worth it?

    I’m still trying to figure out the answer. There are days where I am energized and motivated by my work. Exciting moments where leaders across the company actually commend me for my insights or accomplishments, and that feels good. I have a level of financial security that, again, I never thought I would see in my life.

    But there’s a cost. I am constantly thinking about work. I have to force myself to stop. I have Slack on my phone, and the messages don’t stop. Sometimes there are questions or comments that imply that I need to dig in more, or provide context. Sometimes, there are “fires” that require me to help out in some way. Sometimes, there’s just an unspoken, expected responsibility that I’m constantly thinking about what’s next and taking actions before anyone thinks about it. Work-life balance is a meaningless concept in the tech world. People have tried to introduce new concepts, like work-life “harmony”, and it drives me crazy. Because that isn’t the real message from these companies. You can see that every day, from the high-performance culture on display on video calls or Slack channels, or the slashing of team headcount to “operate lean” and “invest in AI” and drive profitability. The message is clear: work is your life, or you get the fuck out.

    At least in the older, corporate world, and with many hourly jobs today, the work ends when your shift ends. You can go about your life without a care in the world as to what’s happening in the workplace. It’s not your problem until you clock back in. And the days may be redundant and boring and aggravating. But you get your life, and there’s a light at the end of the day, week, year, career. Here, the work comes with you. It stays with you. It throws you in the ocean and challenges you to find land. There are some people who may genuinely love that. I can’t say that I admire them, but I can understand it. I’m not sure I’m that person.

    I’m writing this as someone who might be seen as “thriving” or “successful” in the eyes of my boss or my coworkers, but who is, in reality, running a marathon without lungs. And I’m asking myself: is it better to burn out, or fade away?

  • Under construction…

    I’m still here.

    I had a plan to write at least every two weeks this year. I did not stick to it for long, and I considered the possibility of throwing in the towel until next year. It’s an easy thing to do.

    This year has a lot going on; I’m getting married to the love of my life, our daughter is consistently learning new skills as a toddler, and there’s plenty of travel planned (for work and for fun). It’s the perfect year to say, “I have too much going on to commit to this.” And yet, here I am.

    Frankly, it’s because I’m becoming stubborn. I know how frustrated I’ll be if I get to June or July and look back at this thinking, “seriously? You couldn’t just write a little bit?” Biweekly was the goal, but it’s not a life-or-death commitment. Life isn’t just allowed to happen – it’s going to happen. There’s something to be said about lemons here, perhaps, but I can’t place my finger on it.

    This post feels like spending a little extra time to say: I’ll keep this momentum alive in the coming weeks. I’m excited to continue reflecting on life and all of the beauty and struggle that comes with it.

    I hope you stick it out with me.

  • Moved to tears.

    Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Pexels.com

    Have you ever listened to a song so good that it made you cry?

    I’m digressing a bit from my previous posts. I started to write out meandering thoughts about work-life balance and how the phrase is nonsense, but I’m not sure I’ve sorted out what I really think about that. Maybe next time.

    Instead, I’ve been thinking about the power of music; the ability of a certain flow of songs to help you lock in for a project or workout. We all have a soundtrack for our lives, and despite how similar we are as people, we have wildly different cinematic scores for our journeys.

    There have been a few instances in my life where a song features such moving lyrics, or a melody that swells and builds up to rock my soul, and I can’t help but cry. I’m sure there are some that folks won’t agree with, but I want to share some of the songs that have genuinely brought me to tears.

    Brand New – “Jesus Christ”

    This wasn’t even the first Brand New song I heard–that was “Seventy Times Seven”, and while I really enjoyed that, this was something entirely different for me. I was at a really dark place in my life when I first heard this and it felt like a lot of my feelings were being read back to me, and it was powerful. Watching them perform this live only hit me that much harder. The music doesn’t hit me the same way as it did since I’ve climbed out of those dark places, but I’ve got a special place in my heart for this band and this song is one of my all-time favorites.

    Kendrick Lamar – “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst”

    Kendrick gradually became my favorite hip hop artist over time. I saw him open for Kanye West during the Yeezus tour and hadn’t really listened to him much, but thought his performance was really good. I finally sat down to listen to good kid, m.A.A.d city and it was monumental. Every track and moment had a purpose, and it was an engrossing story. The lyrics in this song and overarching story were painful at times to hear but so well done that I was hooked. There’s a quick part right at the end of the verse that shocked me, and then I was captivated for the rest of the 12 minutes of the song. He has put out a few songs that have really struck an emotional chord with me (“u” off of To Pimp a Butterfly, for example), but this was the first one that showed me the emotional depth of his work.

    La Dispute – “King Park”

    This is another track that’s a story, and it crushed me the first time I heard it. I was on a plane and had added a bunch of songs by different artists that I hadn’t checked out much of. I knew a few early songs by La Dispute and found them to be really good, but I had never stopped to take in all of their work the way they deserve. This song changed things. It stopped me in my tracks as it crescendoed to the painful finale and I remember gripping the arm rests because I was so emotionally invested in the story.

    Explosions in the Sky – “The Birth and Death of the Day”

    Pure musical magic. This is an interesting addition because I actually didn’t cry the first time I heard it. I love this band and have been a fan since I listened to “Your Hand in Mine” a long time ago. That said, this one hit me especially hard because I listed to it on a walk the day after I found out my partner was pregnant. It was an absolute surprise for both of us, and when she originally told me, my reaction was thoughtful silence as I looked around the apartment feeling like everything around me was a mirage. I finally reacted with a “…huh,” and was speechless for a while after.

    The next day, I went on a walk. It wasn’t something I normally did, but it felt like I needed to process the news. I popped my headphones on and hit shuffle on my library, and this was the first song that played as I stepped outside. I swear, my senses were heightened beyond anything I had experienced before. The world was suddenly in high-definition with crisp colors; I felt the ground crunch and give like it was alive with me; I could smell the scent of the air like it was breathing into me. I was so overwhelmed with a new sense of life and purpose and this song was the masterpiece behind that turning point. It would be about 9 months later that I cried again about this, and I was a puddle. But this song gets the credit for playing such a pivotal role in a life-changing walk.

    I could probably write about a few other deeply moving songs that have shaped me or broken me, but those are the tracks that instantly come to mind when I think about being taken on emotional journeys. It’s amazing how long we’ve had the majesty of music and yet we haven’t run out of ways to express our joy, pain, and everything in between.

    I hope we never lose it.

  • On renewal

    What was the best promise you ever made to yourself, and was it actually a New Year’s resolution?

    It’s so easy to get sucked into this tradition of making an extreme commitment to changing your life. I’ve given myself resolutions that bordered impossibility in the past and had the audacity to be *shocked* when I couldn’t follow through. There are some folks that can set incredible goals for themselves and then achieve those goals, and I think those people are titans among mortals. They break the mold of humanity and inspire the masses to strive for more.

    I am not a titan. I am unbelievably mortal. I crushed my toes when I was walking out of the bedroom this morning because I didn’t see my walking pad buried under some sheets and blankets. I then hit those same toes again a couple of hours later walking through the living room, this time against the corner of my daughter’s play pen. Those poor little piggies do not belong to a titan. They belong to a clumsy dad who just wants to feel a little more energized, like he did when he was in his twenties.

    That said, this mortal man gave himself a few resolutions to get to a better place.

    I’m committing to reading in a more meaningful way than I have in the past. I used to be obsessed with the number of books I could knock out in a year (and the number was never particularly impressive, for you avid bookworms out there). A few years ago I was so excited when I read 36 books. Today, I can only tell you a bit about 10 of those books. I realized that (apologies in advance for the incoming cringe) I’m reading to fill a chart instead of reading to fill my heart. It’s silly, but it’s true. I want to read things that truly intrigue me and that I expect to find fulfilling. I also read a variety of genres, so I want to get high-quality reads in those realms. My biggest goals this year are Demon Copperhead (which I’m currently reading), James, The Lord of the Rings, and a good nonfiction read.

    I’m committing to movement and healthier choices. That’s vague because I’ve given myself specific weight loss goals in the past and couldn’t stick to the plans. Now, I’m thinking about it in terms of my energy; I am committed to being more active and making better choices about what I eat so that I have more energy to spend time with my family. This felt like a goal I could point to for encouragement when I’m thinking about being sedentary for another 5 hours.

    I’m committing to setting firm boundaries between work and my personal life. This is extraordinarily difficult to do, because I’m dedicating my professional self to being successful so that I can earn a promotion by 2026. However, I have been a child of a parent who obsesses over work at the cost of quality time, and it’s not worth it. I want to spend time with my partner and daughter making memories. I got really good at this when my daughter was born, and I’ll talk about how she changed my entire life in greater detail some time, but I want to continue to be accountable with this commitment.

    I’m committing myself to this website. I have always loved to write but could never build the discipline and commitment to writing consistently, let alone putting that writing out there on the internet for the world to scrutinize. But as stressful as it can be to put yourself out into the world like that, regret is so much worse. So, I’m going to continue writing and sharing these reflections in 2025.

    More importantly, I’m committed to giving myself grace. We can put together the most thought-out, structured plan that considers every contingency in our heads, but life (or fate, or God, or whatever you believe in) usually isn’t privy to your plans. So, be prepared to pivot and accept that sometimes, things change. Sometimes, you can’t get out to the gym, or read that book, or write that next post you really wanted to. In those moments, it will be easy to feel like you’re failing, and that can be frustrating. Breathe. This isn’t failure. It’s life.

    First comes life, then comes living.

    These aren’t the best promises I’ve ever made to myself. Those came at critical moments in my life, highs and lows. The holiday shouldn’t be about making insane promises. Rather, it’s about remembering, reflecting, renewing, and renovating. I am still me, with all of my flaws and blemishes. I remember the good, the bad, and the beautiful. I reflect on these things with others to celebrate, or understand, or to simply accept. I renew my commitments to things I felt good doing. I renovate by committing to change habits or behaviors in an effort to keep feeling good.

    And above all else, I rely on my commitment to giving myself grace.

  • Existence is a sublime expedition.

    Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

    When I hit my thirties, I had cautious optimism about the future. I meandered through my youth and twenties; shortcuts led to traps and scenic routes took me far off the path, until I felt lost and defeated. There were moments where I wondered what the point of all of this was. Am I just here to take up space? Am I an extra in someone else’s story? I was disconnected from my family, my identity, and my passions.

    Two years ago, things changed. I recognized that I let myself become a passenger on my own journey, and, thanks to an incredible support system, regained control. I fell in love with my soon-to-be wife. We made incredible memories, and then got life-changing news: we were pregnant. My entire world flipped and I had no idea what was going to happen next. The next nine months involved various shifts in my behavior and priorities. I got closer to my mother, who was over the moon about becoming a grandma. I felt an overwhelming need to protect my fiancee. I read books about fatherhood and met with other dads to get their advice. I reconnected with my cousin and became close with a newer group of friends. I found a stronger passion for my work and achieving a level of comfortable income that could provide for my family. There was an anticipation growing inside of me that I couldn’t describe when I thought about the impending birth of my first child.

    And then, she arrived.

    The moment my daughter was born, everything clicked. I saw her entire life, and I saw mine. I felt every emotion I would experience in my existence-past, present, and future, all at once. The world stopped and I saw it for all of its imperfection and beauty, and I knew how I fit in. I’m not here to take up space. I’m here for my fiancee. I’m here for my daughter. I’m here for myself. My story is their story; their story is our story; our story is your story.

    She’s a year old, and that year was both difficult and rewarding. I learned so much about myself, my partner, our relationship, my family, my interests, my culture, and how it all shapes my identity. Nothing is perfect. Some days, I’m on top of the world. Some days, I’m in the trenches. Most days, things are good.

    Recently, I wanted to reconnect with one of my passions: writing. I have loved writing and storytelling since I was a kid. I love the power it has to entertain, teach, and help me to reflect. The problem is that I never know what it is I want to write about. I get so lost in my head that I don’t know what it is I want to say. I end up feeling like an old ship at sea in the dead of night, clouds blocking the light from the moon and stars, unsure of where I can navigate to next. That can be painful to push through, but then I think about how dark things used to be, and then I remember:

    Every moment, challenge, decision, and action, brought us all to this place in life. Good, bad, calm, and chaos. And it is majestic.

    I hope this blog helps me to remember that, especially when things get hard. That’s ultimately what this is about: reflecting on my experiences and interests to understand my identity and continue to establish my place in the world.

    I hope this helps others find their way, too.