Where've you been?!

I know I suck at updating my blog, but I had to work! For those of you unfamiliar with my work, let me explain a little before getting to the goods.

I’m a secretary. Now I know that we all have this exaggerated image of some fancy looking secretary in short skirts, full face make up and pumps, who change into tennis shoes for the long haul in from the parking lot or on lunch hour.

That’s not the kind of secretary I am. Oh, mind you, I WAS at one time, waaaay back in ’91 when I first started this job. I work with retarded people, ok, developmentally disabled to be sensitive. Not necessarily all of them clients. Some of them are staff. I don't just sit in the office, I sometimes actually have to get "dirty". In the literal sense.

My first month on the job, one of the “clients” lambasted my noggin with her “cooler” that she called her lunch box. I don’t know why. My co-workers and even my boss laughed and said that it was my initiation. Hmmm… I see where this is going. About 6 months into my job, I had more opportunities to be on the floor, had buttons ripped off my shirts, my hair pulled, and avoided more punches, bites, scratches and boogers than I had in 6th grade with Becky Preston.

Never-the-less, I no longer wear much in the way of “nice” clothes. I’m strictly t-shirts and stretch pants with Birks now. I know… why would I stay in such a position?! I love my job, I love my co-workers, and yes, I even love my clients! They are my friends and family. Even if some of them are BAD family. You know, the cousins that you tolerate at the reunion. You laugh at their lame jokes all the while, moving closer to the bar!

So on Friday, we had an “Inservice Day”. All this usually entails is that the staff goes thru some tortuous training, learn stuff we already know, gorge ourselves at the breakfast AND lunch buffets, and try to figure out how to sneak out without the bosses catching on. Of course, the bosses walk thru the halls like cheap security guards, approaching you with a smile, when they just want to see your hall pass or something.

THIS past Friday was actually a fun Inservice Day. It was set up so that we would have 4 different classes as well as a Health Fair. Meaning we could get free massages, Reiki, Chiropractic exams, bone density tests, blood pressure tests, etc… etc… The classes were all about Stress relief. A laughter class (which was GREAT, BTW), Nutrition, Fitness (thank you Sara, but I really don't want to be "taken real good care of" no matter HOW many times you wink at me), Finance, Hobbies, and the list there go on as well. There were well over 100 people that do Direct Care for our clients, so you can imagine how busy the day was. A group of us decided to ask for time off while the boss was getting her massage, she got off the table all wobbly and looking like she needed a cigarette. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even nod, and even though as a child, no response meant yes, we, as collective, mature adults know that no response generally means no. Even if mom said yes.

So we are all now stress-free and are able to use that to help our clients right? Wrong. First thing Monday morning, as the clients start arriving for their day, the smell of poop emanates the building, not to mention the sound of the Janitor keys, staff looking for more air freshener, and of course, the miss-matched-ness of the clients' clothes, boogers, poop and all that fills our work week remind us, that Inservice Days are just for fun, a vacation with each other so that we don't feel so alone in our daily tasks. The reality of our day is spent hoping to enrich our clients’ lives, teach them to wipe their noses for crying out loud, to speak without spitting lunch, and eat in public without being thrown out of the restaurant.

I still won’t wear nice clothes and pumps, and I can see retirement on the horizon… it’s a FAR horizon, but it’s there, and if I can make even a little difference in just ONE life while I’m here… what the hell… I always hated panty hose, hated the noise I would make while putting them on. Hated the pumps and the uncomfortable dress clothes. Now I can work in comfort and even if I do have to go sit on the floor, get boogers or poop on my clothes, I don’t feel so bad! I would like to see my sister try to work with that on HER clothes!

That said, I know you understand my lack of the written word on Friday and my work catch up Monday. So now you can all shut it and leave me to picking food and spittle out of my hair!