Midway through my shift, I already knew it was going to be one of those days.
No sales today, not because I wasn’t trying and not because I don’t know what I’m doing, but because the systems were struggling. I was still showing up, still taking calls, still doing the work I’m here to learn how to do.
I don’t work directly for Farmers. I work for a global company that Farmers has outsourced sales to. That matters. Farmers has always kept sales in house, service, claims, sales, all of it. They have never outsourced sales before. So the fact that they partnered with us is significant.
What’s even more telling is that it didn’t stop with one group. They hired a first wave, then a second. I’m part of that second wave, and a third wave starts next month. That tells me something important, the people are not the problem. The model works.
The systems, though, are another story.
Up until around 1:30 PM, I was actively on calls, quoting, explaining coverage, building rapport. I had a mix of conversations. Some callers were frustrated by pricing. Farmers isn’t known for being the cheapest option, and I don’t pretend otherwise. You can absolutely find lower prices elsewhere.
What you’re paying for with Farmers is service after the sale. You’re paying for reliability, for someone to be there when you need them. That message doesn’t resonate with everyone, but it’s honest, and honesty matters in this role.
I also spoke with several people who haven’t even purchased their homes yet. They’re shopping, gathering information, trying to make smart decisions. Those were genuinely good conversations. Rapport was built. Interest was there. They just needed time. Those calls don’t show up as immediate sales, but they are not wasted.
Then the systems went down.
Not a minor hiccup, a full shutdown. Calls dropped mid conversation. Screens froze. Every single one of us was affected. From about 1:30 until my shift ended at 5:30, I worked with my team lead troubleshooting and trying to regain access so I could get back on the phones.
We never got there.
That’s four hours of lost phone time. Four hours of nesting time, time that matters when you’re still learning, still building speed, still gaining confidence through repetition.
This is day five of taking live calls. I’ve successfully processed one payment and bound one policy. That’s not where I plan to stay, but it is proof that I can do this. Skill comes from practice, and practice requires functional tools.
What I bring to this role is effort and consistency. I showed up to training every day. I showed up sick. I showed up while grieving. I took thorough notes, supported my classmates, and became someone people leaned on, enough that my peers started calling me the class leader. The SharePoint notes I created are being used not only by my class, but by the trainer for the next training wave. That was humbling, and it’s something I’m proud of.
I know that a lot of my recent posts probably sound like complaining, and I want to be clear about something. I don’t hate this job. I don’t even dislike it. I know I’m going to love what I do.
What’s been difficult isn’t the work itself. It’s trying to do the work well while navigating systems that don’t consistently support it. Right now, those flaws are actively hindering my ability to perform at the level I know I’m capable of.
I don’t dread punching in each morning. I show up ready. What I don’t look forward to is my phone ringing, not because I’m unsure how to help the person on the other end of the line, but because I’m worried the screen I need won’t load, or that I’ll finally have a clear yes and hit a technical wall when it’s time to take a payment.
That kind of friction wears on you, not because the job is wrong, but because the tools aren’t steady yet.
I’m still in nesting until February 6th, and I’m using that time intentionally. Confidence comes from repetition. Mastery comes from access. When the systems support the effort being put in, I know exactly what I can deliver.
Right now, I’m doing the work, learning fast, and showing up fully… while running a marathon with my shoes tied together. I’m not quitting the race. I’m just ready for the knots to be untied.
Comments ()