Tuesday, June 29, 2004

My job makes me sad.

I work at a really sad place. My clients are poor, destitute, and often homeless. Some could do better, but choose not to. Some want to do better, but can't. I exist to help them exist. I get paid so they can get paid.

Sometimes I think I have the worst job in the world. It's thankless and I often go unappreciated. I create spreadsheets and systems to maintain smooth operation, but coworkers break them and laugh about how stupid they are for doing it. I spend half my day fixing it. It's a real hoot. Yeah.

People yell at me, people throw things, and people make accusations because they don't know better. They are just raised that way. I'm glad I wasn't raised that way.

My boss blames me for things I didn't do. I do a million things right, but I'm such a failure if I "forget" to do something she never asked me to do. I try to respond, but she interrupts me. I think she hates me because I try hard. Maybe she should try harder.

I am okay because I have caring friends, a caring family, and especially a caring husband. It could be worse...I could be these people. I don't want to pick cotton or clean a sewer. I don't want to clean out the drunk tank. I really don't want to embalm dead people.

Homeless people are okay, I guess. Most of them aren't even homeless. They just say they are so we don't know what they really have. Homeless people don't have cell phones, novelty lighters, expensive clothing, and designer handbags. Our homeless people do. Something is wrong with the way they think.

Some of our homeless people are truly homeless. They smell. They drink. They carry around plastic bags. They loiter in our bathroom until they are forced to leave at closing. They are sad. Often they have just been let out of jail. They will probably go back. They don't know how to do better.

I'm okay because I know how to do better. I can eat fettucinne at lunch if I want, and I can eat mandarin oranges from a cup. I don't wonder where my next meal will come from. I just have to worry if the center will be cooked when I take it from the microwave. I can save my checks, but I probably won't. I will spend them frivolously because that's what I do.

I don't have to go to work, but I always do. I can be sad, but I will go back. I will come home, and I will be tired. But I will go back. I will cry because it makes me sad, but I will go back. I always go back.

You'll probably go back too.

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