Chapter 7

There are few phrases more dangerous than:

“Oh—transcoding.”

Risa learned this quickly.

Customer Service alone was a full eight-hour job. Not an exaggeration. Not a metaphor. A literal, clock-eating, email-generating, SAP-loading eight hours.

Transcoding?

Transcoding was its own beast.

One file took anywhere from one to three hours, depending on how cooperative Excel felt that day. Multiply that by twelve distributors, sprinkle in Customer Service emergencies, and top it off with Power BI refresh times that rivaled geological eras.

And then there was the Promo Summary.

Which… quietly got shoved into a corner.

Risa didn’t feel too bad about that. After all, the Promo Summary had existed in its current state for twenty years. It could survive a few more weeks without her heroic intervention.

She told herself this while staring at her screen at 6:48 p.m., watching a file load.

Rachel got promoted during all of this.

There was an announcement. Smiles. Slack emojis. A general sense of good for her.

Shortly after, Rachel scheduled her first official 1:1 with Risa.

“How are you feeling?” Rachel asked, smiling professionally.

Risa hesitated. Then answered honestly. “It’s fun. I like the work. But… it’s a lot.”

Rachel tilted her head. “Are you feeling overwhelmed?”

“Just a little,” Risa said carefully. “I probably don’t have the bandwidth to take on more right now.”

Rachel nodded slowly. “That makes sense. I used to do transcoding too. I know it’s a lot.”

Relief washed over Risa.

She understands, Risa thought. Thank God.

No new work was added. No additional expectations were piled on.

For the moment.

Risa worked hard—really hard—trying to match Fred’s pace on transcoding. On paper, they were doing the same amount of work.

In reality?

Fred had one job.

Risa had Customer Service, Analytics, Sales File, BOL Tracker, Promo Tracker, distributor emails, warehouse deadlines, and whatever else decided to combust that day.

By the 8th, Risa knew she wasn’t going to make it.

So she stayed late.

Then later.

Then much later.

Two nights in a row, she worked until 11:30 p.m., eating snacks from her bag and staring at her screen like it owed her money.

On the 10th, she submitted everything.

Barely.

She went home numb, slept like she’d been unplugged, and came back in the next week with exactly zero time to process what had just happened.

Which is when the talk arrived.

It was a normal morning.

Evelyn and Sophia, kindly but disastrously, told her she could keep the BOL Tracker and Sales File for another month.

“For more experience,” they said.

Risa smiled and opened the BOL Tracker.

At 10:30 a.m., she joined her second weekly 1:1 with Rachel.

Rachel didn’t smile.

“Risa,” she said immediately, “you’re underperforming.”

The words landed like a slap.

Risa blinked. “I—okay. Can you help me understand what goals or metrics I should be meeting so I can meet expectations?”

Rachel paused.

“I don’t know.”

Risa stared at her screen.

I don’t know.

Her manager did not know.

“So… what is this based on?” Risa asked carefully.

Rachel frowned. “It’s problematic that you feel like you have too much on your plate.”

Risa nodded slowly, the way one nods when trying not to scream.

“Everyone here wears multiple hats,” Rachel continued. “I do both Analytics and P&L.”

“That makes sense,” Risa said.

“And what I do,” Rachel added, “is I rotate. When I’m focusing on Analytics, I set aside P&L. When I need to do P&L, I set aside Analytics.”

Risa smiled politely.

Inside her head, she was screaming.

I cannot set aside Customer Service.
Orders do not rotate.
Emails do not rotate.
The warehouse does not care about your strategy.

Customer Service happened every day. Orders had to be processed before 6. Warehouse packing took three days. Shipping took three more.

Delay one thing and the whole chain broke.

But Risa said none of this.

She nodded. “I’ll try harder.”

Rachel nodded back. “Good.”

The call ended.

Risa returned to her desk and stared at her screen.

Brad looked over. “How did it go?”

Risa swallowed. “It was… a tough conversation.”

Brad nodded knowingly. “Yeah. We have high expectations of you.”

Risa forced a smile. “I’ll work hard.”

She turned back to her computer, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

She had done everything asked of her.

And somehow, it still wasn’t enough.

Which, she was learning, was also part of the job.