Time To Move On, Again…

Last year was one for the record books in so many ways. And literally, one for the record books in so many ways that none of us want to remember. For me, it was the first time since I was 15 that I was unemployed. Like for real unemployed, not quitting my job in hopes of a better life with the family, type of unemployed. I had lots of ideas for what to do to move forward with income, I put together 5 different business plans, and had a lot of things that sounded good end up not looking so great when you look at the numbers. Yikes! I’ve seen more than a handful of people start an fail at the same restaurant I worked at in KY for almost 5 years. I knew how quickly you could burn thru cash with nothing to show for it. On top of that, the oil industry was already in a downturn. Massive layoffs, companies filing for bankruptcy, a petroleum geologist job was not to be found anywhere and it only got worse as the year went on. Not wanting to burn through all my savings and THEN end up feeling stuck and without money, I decided to get a job. A job at the DEpt of Human Services and friends, let me tell you. It was an experience…

CASA Seems Nice

When I was in SAHD mode with the Lifestyle Change, I ended up getting sworn in as a CASA, Court Appointed Special Advocate, for kids in the foster system. Basically, you’re another set of eyes on the case, except you’re just there to advocate for the kids. You don’t care what DHS (Dept of Human Services) wants per se, you’re not there to placate the parents or foster parents, you’re literally there to check in on the kids and see how they’re doing and make sure they’re not getting left behind or fall thru the cracks. My first case needed a CASA because the dad wasn’t communicating well with DHS and was “a handful”, yada, yada, yada. I honestly thought it felt like a softball case, because itwas dealing with a bipolar person that had gone off meds, with no familial support, and went down the rabbit hole. A very dark rabbit hole, but what would you expect with no meds?

Maybe it felt comfortable talking to him because it reminded me of dad in some ways. Maybe it was just because I didn’t have the pressure of the time crunch DHS is under and I could sit and listen to him and let him vent, talk about how things went south, why he felt they could get better and more. It was a lot of listening, but we built a relationship and I built a better relationship with his kids. I liked that work and felt like it made a difference, especially in that case. Fast forward to spring 2020 and they mentioned that they might need a new supervisor. The pay wasn’t great, but it would cover my bills at that point and I thought it would be a good fit. Then it was 2 months later and nothing, and then 2 months later and nothing and then the shit hit the fan at CASA.

Their director wasn’t doing her job, numbers were horrible and it got shut down, only for a day, but yikes, just the same. Basically, nothing had been done the way it should and not only would there not be an opening for a supervisor, even if someone quit, but the whole thing was in jeopardy. As much as I thought I’d like to work that gig, like in oil and gas, a job just wasn’t there.

Enter DHS, Human Services not Homeland Security

Fortunately, unfortunately, DHS is always hiring. At this point it was June and looking at other job prospects I didn’t want to sell insurance, or any of the other “also always hiring” types of jobs, and this seemed like a more front line type of work than CASA. I figured, why the hell not. I can deal with this. I can relate to people, because lord knows my background is a myriad of craziness compared to “regular people”, and having empathy can go a long way in these situations. So, I applied. And I started work July 6, 2020. Right in the middle of the pandemic, I left the safety of my little rental and my music playing friend to work as a social worker. Reminds me of a line in a country song, “What was I thinking?!”

It wasn’t all bad, they had signs up for masks for everyone at the office and were distributing laptops so everyone could work from home and not need the office and except for the dealing with people part of the job, it seemed as safe as any job could be during a pandemic. Ironically, that was the easiest part of the job, masking up, sanitizer, being socially distant, mostly… This was all during training. There was a lot of training, but at the same time I started supervising visits, picking up kids and babies, meeting parents for visits and repeat because my training got messed up somehow and delayed 3 weeks.

Again, it was fulfilling getting to facilitate those visits. Even shadowing people to their monthly worker visits and hearing about parents progress with their programs, or lack of progress, and foster parents talking about their kids and how well or not that they were doing. It was good for me but probably also because I find people fascinating. Probably why blogging is so easy and reading others stories and getting to know people on line and back in the before days, in person at Fincon, Camp FI, or other meetups. I loved it! It fed my soul and much like that, this job seemed to do the same. Little did I know what was to come.

DHS is Always Hiring For a Reason

I’m not naïve and I knew talking with the DHS worker that I worked with on my CASA case, I got a real life, this is what it’s like. Anyone that knows anything about social workers can tell you they are overworked and underpaid, but Lord, I had NO idea… I finished training, got my half a caseload assigned to me, and I got started. It went well. I figure out my system making monthly visits to all my kids, weekly visits to my supervision case, and visits with my parents and foster parents each month. Sure, I had 1 case that took ~5 hrs each week to drive her to visit with her kids, along with all the other case work, but that was my biggest time suck, at that point…

A month in, I had a case that had a teen with a lot of different disabilities and that made managing his care difficult. His grandma couldn’t handle it and it escalated until she got a black eye and bruised finger. I start looking for a different placement and got told, it will be fine, let’s get her some resources to help, so I apply for ALL the resources. Then I start getting calls from her 2-3x a day. A day. But as they say, all the time you can spend to save a placement beats the work it takes to find a new placement. So I put in the time and documented it. ALL of it. It was an ICWA case (Indian Child Welfare Act) so you have to go above and beyond reasonable efforts and this fit those efforts. For the first month it worked, and I was out there at their house 2-3x a week trying to smooth things over, remind him of his coping skills, giving her skills to use with him and more. Little did I know her degenerate older son was showing up everyday and antagonizing this poor kid to get him to go off, so his loser 37 year old ass could move back in and mooch off mom. People suck…

December 23rd, she kicks him out and I spend the day trying to find a placement for him. Fortunately, grandma was covid positive, so he couldn’t go anywhere except the covid shelter. Whew! Still got daily calls, sometimes 2x a day, but he had a place for a bit. I kick up our teams looking for placement, find a cousin that is angry she wasn’t contacted sooner. She harasses me for a week on text and we go back and forth about why she wasn’t contacted sooner and what a travesty it is for these kids, until I tell her the real details about these kids and guess who hasn’t texted or responded to any calls in a month now? He ends up at another shelter after the covid shelter got filled up again, and he was there for 2 weeks until they couldn’t deal with him either. Currently, he’s in a crisis placement awaiting anything that’s more permanent.

Here’s the thing. He’s been on a group home wait list since July 2019 with NOTHING coming available, and same for DDS placements. There isn’t anything available for kids or adults with developmental disabilities and aggression issues. That could be a whole other post or 3, but it’s horrible there’s no safety net for people in this situation.

Basically, I’ve got all this going on, along with every other single thing I’m supposed to do. Visits, court reports, referrals, checking in on services, and more. I also had gotten more kids to get up to 166% of expected case load because, DHS. So, right out of the gate I was overwhelmed and trying to navigate the trickiest parts of the system to no avail. I had no help from within until it was way past to late to help the placement for that last kid. Starting on the 3rd, I’ll be getting another bump up on case load and add a few more kids and their parents and foster parents to this schedule.

I Came. I Tried. I’m Out.

They don’t know I’m giving my notice on the 1st. Maybe they do, because I did have a literal, “Fuck this job” moment at 10:30 pm after the 2nd night in a row of being in an ER with another kid and having a week of 4 hrs of sleep each night and yep, I was done. That night, I decided I was done. I couldn’t do it anymore. It was too much. It’s not a job, it’s a lifestyle and it’s not one I wanted to live. I lost time with my kids on Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years because you can’t take time off if you don’t have EVRYTHING done for the month before you take time off. I got called out for impromptu visits at 8pm and 9pm because they needed to get done, for another worker. Visits on the weekend, stuff pops up and a kid blows placement, sorry “my kids”, I have to deal with work and am going to miss dinner. That happened frequently. Yeah, you’re expected to put your life and family aside for this job. I didn’t do it when I made 4x this amount of money and I’m damn sure not doing it now.

Freedom To Choose

Fortunately, I’m in a position that I don’t NEED this job, and holy hell friends, what an amazing feeling it is to be in that position. So, I choose to not deal with the schedule. I choose to not deal with the emotional trauma, that could be a whole other post, if I wanted to depress all of you more than the last year has done, lol. The point is that I’m moving on with no job prospects and it feels scary, but glorious! I’ve applied to 4 jobs in Houston, 2 in LA although I think it was the same company, lol, 1 here in Norman (fingers crossed), and I’ve applied 3x at a company in Midwest City that needs geologists and Senior geologists and I’m like, ffs I can do that job! But nothing but “no-thank-you’s” from each of them. That would be irony. Decline a management position at a great company, for me, in Houston only to end up back in Houston starting over again 3 years later… Ah, life, lol.

For now, I feel light. I feel relieved and I feel like I’ll be able to sleep better again. I’ll take it. I’ll take it over what the last 7 months has been, that’s for sure.

What about you? Have you had any jobs where you felt like you’d be a great fit, and the job wasn’t bad, but the schedule killed it? Or worse, are you working that kind of job now? Let me know, I’d love to hear about it!