Saturday, October 19, 2013

Who Cut The Government Cheese?

In between shuffling papers and throwing dirty looks at crackwhore mommas this week I accidentally ate the Government Cheese. You know, that USDA surplus cheese you can sign up to receive if you're below a certain income level along with other surplus items?

Sometimes the military used to get USDA surplus. I seem to remember getting ration cards to get large packs of beef and dairy that was surplus at the base commissary on post in Germany. Happened a few times. None of the stuff we received was what I would call Grade A food, more like tough gristly beef and strange cut rate Velveeta-like neon orange cheese.

Friday at work I bit into my grilled cheese sandwich, and past the hardened bread a slightly familiar unpleasant semi-cheese like taste hit my tongue. It was The Government Cheese! I had no idea our facility got USDA Surplus.

I guess if your cupboards were bare the government cheese is better than nothing. But not by much.

Uh, about the crackwhore mommas. The lounge where the supervised visits takes place between the abused or neglected children and their parents or legal guardians takes place is smack dab in the middle of the clinical area, just outside of my office. We see some real winners out there and it's hard not to use the death glare on them.

Friday's momma was a winner. She showed up drunk and/or high wearing clothing it looked like she slept in. Her eye makeup was smeary and her hair had some crazy looking tangled bits, like it hadn't been brushed in so long that it was starting to mat up in the back.

I try not to judge... but.... it's too hard when they show up wasted looking like an extra from a "Breaking Bad" party scene at Jesse's house. Plus if the kid's record has crossed my desk and I've read snippets such as "mother sold child at 1 year for sex to a group of men for drug money" or "locked in a dog crate for several months and fed dry dog food" or the ever popular "left children alone for six days while she partied with friends. No food in house" and the list goes on, then I'm going to get all judgmental on your ass.

Seriously, if you're going to have kids you should realize that your partying days are O-V-E-R. At least on those nights when grandma cannot sit the kids.

Most of the time by the point where the child's record has crossed my desk and I see some piss poor excuse for a parent making a visit I start wishing that the courts could punish the parents by inflicting on them what they've done to their children.


Saturday, October 12, 2013

Role Reversal: Bringing Home That Bacon & Letting the Hubby Fry it Up in a Pan

Since the government shutdown my husband Jim has been at home and I've been working at my job.

It's taken a little adjustment to trade roles and I must admit that on the two rainy cold days this week I was more than a little miffed to come home to him snoozing in our cozy waterbed under a soft quilt while I was rain splattered, cold and hungry.

But we've settled in after two weeks of this. Jim has very nicely taken care of some rather large chores I'd been putting off. He's cleaned and reorganized both the garage and storage room, done the dishes daily, dusted, cleaned various rooms all the while working on the material for his Spanish class.

I come home and make us something simple to eat. He washes the dinner pots, pans and dishes.

What I'm wondering is why the Christian Right makes such a big deal out of the woman staying home and the man working long hours outside of the home as the only 'right' way to do life God's way? I can swear to you I'm no less feminine than I was before and my husband isn't grinding his teeth because my salary is the only one coming in. He's actually quite happy we have money coming in at the same time he is unemployed. We're both secure in our marriage, our sexuality and our fluid roles without any disturbances in our marriage, contrary to everything spouted by Debi Pearl, Nancy Campbell and all the ladies at Ladies Against Feminism.

Even with the lack of Jim's paycheck we're both relatively happy right now just the way things are. Hard and fast gender roles really suck.

Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Rank and File(ing)

I am so glad the weather has taken a turn for the cooler.

Why? My office is in the basement and we have precisely one air vent for a long L-shaped office. Which means we're crammed in there, like middle aged sardines, with three ladies of a certain menopausal age, with very little cool air coming out of that lone sorry air vent.

Today was almost bearable everywhere in our dungeon, everywhere but the file room, which happens to be what we're working on right now, correcting all the mistakes getting everything ready for that blasted government audit that might not take place now that the government is shut down.

The only real problem with inadequate air conditioning in the joint besides us ladies sweating like a whore in church is our lone man worker. He's a very odd duck, extreme nerd right down to his Star Trek coffee cup on the desk and model of the USS Enterprise sitting on the shelf overhead. He wears a jacket, even in the hottest of weather, a olive green old jacket, over Hawaiian print shirts. Add in the eau du cigarette smoke since he is always slipping out to smoke.

I'm not trying to be mean, it's just......    the second he takes off that jacket everyone in the office almost faints from the insane amounts of body odor and smokey coming off him in waves. Goats, limburger cheese, stink bugs and dirty feet smell better than this guy.

The question we keep pondering at work is how to deal with it. No one is even sure how the boss tolerates him in her small office for meetings without fainting. It's seriously that bad.

The office is too small to anonymously put a bar of soap and some deodorant on his desk with his name on them. I wonder if they make Star Trek branded soap and deodorant, that might be the only acceptable way to gift him some unstinkum.

We are all too grossed out for it to continue much longer.

Thursday, October 03, 2013

Running With Scissors

We have had some exciting times at work recently. Some little Johnette and then a little Johnny each managed to get a hold of some scissors and attempt to stab staff with said scissors. Little Johnette was even more badass, she drew a bath tub full of water and threatened to drown her house momma in the tub.

Johnette was hauled away from our facility to another place suitable for very violent children. So was Johnny. The rest of us got lectures about locking away all scissored in desk drawers. Scissors, for good measure I threw my staple remover in with the scissors. Some very determined kid could probably gouge an eye or two out.

The other thing we've been up to this week was discussing what will happen if the government shut down runs longer than the 17th and Medicaid shuts down. The facility would not be paid for the care of the kids no one else will take. No payments means no paychecks means shipping the patients out to other facilities and shuttering our village at least temporarily.

I might be out of a job again if the government shut down lasts much longer.

Jim is home now since of the thousand plus workers in his building all but three were told they were out of work now. Jim is freaking out because of what he does, the daily collection and dissemination of information, press releases, tweets, site updates and the editing he does for the oldest publication that the US government still has. If this goes on long it's going to take them months to catch up again.

Throw in today's insane shooting just blocks from Jim's shut office and I'm starting to feel like the whole world is running with scissors. Even our big audit that everyone has been stressing over for months is now being put off somewhere in the distance considering it was two federal agencies that were conducting the audit. Who knows if it will ever happen now.