From the G-Chat files:
Schmoopy, being the witty wordsmith that she is, helped me write a letter.
Schmoopy: then you could say...so, moving on....
blah blah blah cory smooth talking blah blha
me: well sure
thanks for being my cyrano
or my cicero
whichever you prefer
Schmoopy: shut up
me: serpico?
Schmoopy: LOL
me: I'm done, I promise
Schmoopy: Cory, can I be your Serpico?
me: always
Schmoopy: woo!
I am beyond livid right now.
A couple of months ago, Medicaid cut the number of hours per week of IBI that a child can receive from 30 to 22. We all knew that this would make summer schedules extremely tricky to arrange, but Boss Lady assured us all that we would be able to get at least 30 hours per week, if not a few more. All well and good.
I started the Monday after school got out working 7 hour days, four with one client and three with another. After that first day, our agency decided not to take the contract on my first client, and since then I've had one steady case that gives me 15 hours a week. I've been able to cover some other kids in the mornings, but it's been patchy and unreliable, to say the least. I texted Boss Lady about available hours yesterday morning when I found out the kiddo I was supposed to cover was sick, and she replied that she had been contacted about a referral and if that came through, I could do the assessment and work with that client. I took this to mean that there were really no available hours, and while I know that some people are working close to, if not more than, 40 hours, a lot of us were kind of in the same boat. Fine, I can handle that. Economy, Medicaid and all that.
Got a text from a coworker this morning asking if I needed hours. I replied that I did, thinking that maybe she wanted to take a day off and I could cover for her, but I didn't hear anything back from her after that. Another coworker texted me a bit later with this:
This system is beyond broken.
Can we take a minute and talk about today? Because, today? Kind of awful. And by "today", I do mean "the portion of today from 12-3".
There was poop. OH, was there poop. TWICE. In the same afternoon. From the same child. Who should NOT be pooping his pants at this point.
After I picked him up from lunch, we stopped by Fred Meyer to pick up the ring that I had dropped off to be sized last week. Not wanting to turn the AC on, I rolled down all four windows in the car. From the back passenger side window, I heard a thunk. The regulator is shot! Isn't that fun? This has happened before, to the opposite rear window, which is the only way I know what the hell a regulator is.
We met a coworker of mine at the park, and Child decided to push the girl she was working with because she didn't want to play with him. Then I got to race up the play structure, nearly slipping and cracking my head, to head off the full-on behavior, though he did manage to smack my sunglasses crooked before I got him to settle down.
My job is friggen awesome. Although, there was one sweet moment during which I was kneeling in a park restroom trying to clean Child's poop before he has a chance to stim in it. As I leaned over, my ponytail fell over my shoulder, and Child says, "Cory, you have nice hair". Can you even HANDLE that? Also, when he verbal-stims with my name, he calls me "Curree", which is slightly adorable.
Also, WHEN can I get a decent night's sleep again? Seriously. Thank you.
Today I'm billing Medicaid for sitting at a client's kitchen table and playing Falling Gems on my phone while she cleans her room.
Sometimes, IBI is a pretty sweet deal.
I am nothing if not a skilled procrastinator, so I'm blogging. Whee!
Not that I have much to say.
My baby brother is all growed up and graduated from high school this past weekend. Next weekend he turns 18 and promptly flies to Jamaica for a mission trip. It amazes me how close we've become over the past few years, even given our 6-year age difference. The organizers of his mission asked family and friends to write letters to the kids that they'll receive once they're down in Jamaica. As I reflected on what to write to him, I realized that that kid, as frustrating and annoying as he can be, has become one of my favorite people in the world, and one of my best friends. We share thick, dark, curly hair, a love of stupid movies, and our dad's sense of humor (for better or for worse, depending on if you ask my mom). I love my little brother.
Summer schedules started this week. Monday was awful and frustrating and exhausting and I truly had to fight to keep from crying for a lot of the day. Tuesday was way better! So I have that going for me... and that's nice.
Got a text from my supervisor the yesterday asking how my project corrections were coming along. Uh... what? I definitely fibbed and told her that I was in the process of rewriting and should be done in about week. Guess what I'm doing tonight? Hence the blog post? And the incessant Facebook/Twitter stalking? Good times.
In other news, my anxiety is back, so woo!
If this doesn't scream Too Lazy To Write An Actual Blog Post, I don't know what does.
Discussing the merits of online dating with Schmoopy. Topic: What to list under interests?
Schmoopy: what else do i like to do? be domestic. be your wife. have your babies. uh, i mean...uh...what?
me: hahaha
well, I like to ovulate, and be fertile...
Schmoopy: Oh.
thank God,.
my office door is closed
me: LOL
I love you
Schmoopy: i couldnt even write that in one sentence
i was laughing so hard
me: haha so I gathered
My little brother makes me giggle sometimes.
me: did mom take you to lunch today for the last day of school?
Lil Brudder: no...we had to stay the WHOLE DAY!
me: THE INJUSTICE
Lil Brudder: its a travesty
Posts
