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so. i started my new job and it’s already all kinds of fucked up. there are upsides, like finally fucking earning a living wage & getting benefits (the benefits don’t kick in till june 1, though) for the first time in my adult life. (incidentally, today is the 9 year anniversary of moving out of my mom’s house & thereby beginning my adult life. hurray!)
for those who don’t know, i work for a local version of c*hild pr0tective $ervices [it’s very important that this not come up on google, hence the stupid spelling]. the actual work i do is very easy and low-stress, filling out forms, mailing things, etc., for more money than i’ve ever gotten. super, right? i mostly work directly with a bunch of very nice (if very normal) middle aged women who’ve been super sweet to me.
but the social workers. oh my god, the social workers. mostly a bunch of really privileged young white kids who don’t fucking know anything about the people they’re “trying” to “help”. who have never been in a desperate situation before. don’t even get me started on them.
yesterday i was having an okay day until this social worker came back with a 2-day-old baby that she’d taken from her mom while breastfeeding. the baby came back to the office because there was nowhere else to put her, i guess. everyone in the office, social workers & clerical staff alike, crowded around, making a big fuss about the baby (who, incidentally, was very cute). they were laughing about this woman. “ha, i guess she thought she could keep this one! she thought wrong!” “why did she think she could keep her own kid. she’s stupid” etc. etc. apparently, this baby was taken from this woman because she had a history of being a drunk–not because she had actually done anything to this particular baby.
and yeah, i don’t know the whole story, what she’s done to “deserve” this. maybe it is deserved, i don’t know. but seeing all these people talk about this woman, as her baby woke up and screamed for its mom who isn’t there, and was rocked by a social worker with terrible hair who thinks this baby’s mom is a completely subhuman piece of shit–well. i couldn’t react, but when i got home i cried and cried and cried, my boyfriend asking what was wrong & rubbing my back & i couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t breathe right, it took so many minutes of snot and tears before i could talk. and even then, i couldn’t really talk. couldn’t really convey what actually happened.
now i am at the warm safe library feeling totally crazy. reminding myself not to cry. don’t fucking cry anymore. don’t. i don’t particularly like children & i wasn’t expecting to be affected this deeply by what goes on there. thought my last job was as morally bankrupt as i’d ever have to deal with. guess i thought wrong.
so. i’m gonna wait six months to get off probationary period & after that i can bid out to just about any office in the county that has an opening. go work for the department of health or something. thinking about my friends who spend years in solitary confinement cells, surely i can make it six months. surely, i can make it out. right?

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