Damn them all:
06/30/2005 02:25 p.m.
I used to have the link posted here that could direct you to my other website, my online journal. I am not giving it out anymore. I have had too many problems with spammers and haters leaving unsolicited messages on my journal and I refuse to deal with that any longer. I must preserve my sanity!

Thank you for your patronage.

I am currently Alienated

Ode to Workplace Blues
02/12/2003 02:39 p.m.
Maybe they won't read this entry. Who knows. They probably do. I'm going to write an ad for the paper (not really):

Are you paranoid? Do you sense conspiracy behind every supervisor's closed door? Do you feel that you are a target for prejudices and agency policy?

Then join us! In this high-stress, low-satisfaction field you will experience depression, lack of sleep, lack of appetite, panic attacks, paranoia, and constant vigilance to save your own hide - both personally and professionally. Want to be an individual? Not in this workplace! We promote cynicism and backstabbing as a general rule. Want to be a writer? Well, that's fine, just don't write anything inflammatory, derogatory, or malcontented. Keep your nose buried and kiss a little butt and you will go far in this field!

Oh, and you want to help people? That's fine, do your best, but keep in mind that this field is all about liability. We really don't care about families, we only care that we don't get in trouble if someone dies, and of course we'll blame the worker. But good for you! Your sense of conscience and societal values is to be commended.

In case any of you can't tell, I'm not happy in my present workplace. I love my job - love it love it love it - but I hate the fact that I have to watch my back and monitor every word and action in order to survive professionally.

Oh, gosh, this entry is inflammatory. What will happen now? Stay tuned . . .


I am currently Alienated

Home But Not Alone
08/08/2002 06:29 p.m.
I'm on vacation this week, and I didn't think I would cry so much.

I cried with my Granddad when we talked about everything I've been through in my life (he didn't know half of it) and how far I've come. He's proud of me, and that makes me feel good. I miss him so much, though.

I cried with my (step)Mom when we talked about her divorce from my Dad and the possibility that she may date/marry someone else in the future (she's only 39). She, and he as well, feels an extreme sense of guilt as a result of the dissolution of a Christian marriage; it was the weirdest thing in the world to have my Mom cry on MY shoulder, for once. I felt like the parent. And in a way, she's back to being a baby in her faith, so I was mothering her. Too much for me . . . and made me make some hardcore resolutions concerning my own illusive and possibly impossible marriage.

Today, I cried with my sister, Nikki, as we talked about how much we miss each other when I am gone. She looks up to me so much, and says that she wishes I was her mom! That is heartbreaking to me in the extreme. I tried explaining to her that the kids are not the reason that I left; the parents are. She understands . . . but they are growing up so fast . . .

And then I find out that my supervisor, one person who has been instrumental in my satisfaction at work, is taking a director's position at another county's DSS! So now I get stuck with Bullfrog, the other supervisor that I do NOT get along with. Should I stay or should I go now? :) I don't want to bail out at work; but I am painfully aware that the biggest reason I have continued being a dumped-upon social worker is because of the support I garnered from my supervisor.

*sigh*

Time to go swimming. See you soon.
I am currently Sad
I am listening to Plus One

Pain for her
06/03/2002 07:47 p.m.
I cannot go where she goes, and it kills me.
I cannot share her pain, and it kills me.
I cannot lighten her load, and it kills me.
I cannot do her job for her, and it kills me.
I cannot make her feel better, and it kills me.

I can pray for her, and that sustains me. And sometimes, I can even make her smile.

I am currently Helpless
I am listening to my incessant phone