Long time, no blog

I just realized that I have not posted an entry in nearly a month and am quite embarrassed considering my vow approximately one month ago to post at least one entry every other day.  Apologies to anyone who actually gives a rat's behind, but I have been swamped with many unfunny events recently.

While going to check on a client the other day I was held up on the highway by what I thought was a car accident.  As it turns out, it was the suicide of a woman who had decided that the best way to depart this life was to jump from a very high overpass onto the middle of that highway. What's worse, is that she apparently did not pick a high enough departure point, because she did not die right away but rather several hours later, according to the evening news.

This brush with suicide made me very sad, and I realized that it is likely because I am no longer desensitized to this type of action. In a previous job I dealth with clients who attempted to take their own lives on a daily basis.  Cutting, hanging, ingesting, you name it-they did it and I dealt with it every day.  I learned to get used to the fact that I was trying to help people that not only didn't want help, but didn't want to even supply their brains with the oxygen needed to develop the desire.  Somehow, I learned to work in this environment but having now been removed from it for a while it was a mild shock to my system to be reminded that people still think this way.

That made me wonder about the situations I deal with right now and how I might be desensitized to them.  Have I become complacent about not having water or electricity? Have I gotten used to the fact that some people would rather have their meth than their children safe?  I like to think not, but it is worth contemplating, and important for all of us in this insane field to think about in order to avoid that possible complacency turning into apathy and acceptance. It would be pretty difficult (although interesting) to be an apathetic agent of change.

I haven't been able to locate the amusing aspects lately in any of my work related experiences, or at least enough of the amusing to make an entire blog entry.  I promise I will try harder.  Perhaps I will go hang out with the attorneys for a while.  I hear that they don't do anything but joke all day.

Ten Tactics to Amuse Yourself at Redundant and Boring Workplace Trainings/Meeting

I'm not sure who first decided that it is beneficial to train employees over and over with the same subject matter year after year, but I'm pretty sure that I'd like to punch them in the face, whomever they may be.  I get the fact that repetition increases retention, but I found this theory most useful when I was learning my colors and numbers at age three.  You would think that today's modern workforce supervisors would treat their professional employees slightly more maturely than toddlers, but apparently they have not yet found the value in treating adults like adults. 

Although these types  of training meet and often exceed my job irritant quota, there are also many meetings, both weekly and monthly that I have to sit through in which my relevant portion accounts for approximately one one thousandth of the meeting.  In these times of necessity I have found ways through the years to occupy my mind in a way that keeps me from falling asleep and depositing unsanitary drool all over the table.  I like to think of this as a courtesy to my co-workers who might not appreciate the delicate glisten of my saliva.

Most of these tactics require a certain amount of discretion, the degree of which depends on your superiors’ ‘give a shit’ level.  Please use wisely.  If you find the desire to use any of the below tactics while talking to clients, go to your desk and immediately apply for some vacation time. 

My own personal top ten tactics to amuse myself during boring trainings/meetings are as follows: 

10.  Do other work. .Do your real work in a manner that the facilitator of the meeting/training assumes you are fastidiously taking notes.


9. Doodle.   Draw pictures to amuse yourself in the same manner you would do real work in number 10.  If you have a kindred spirit sitting next to you, you can even exchange knowing glances and silently grin at the others creative efforts. 


8. Count things.  If you want a tactic that requires little creative effort, number 9 is for you.  Ceiling tiles, carpet stains, the number of times your co-worker’s head wobbles as they fall asleep before they jolt awake again, and the number of times the facilitator says ‘um’ are all good fodder for counting.  


7. Write notes.  If you are so fortunate as to be sitting next to the kindred spirit referenced in number 8, you can discretely write notes back and forth to them about how dumb and/or boring the training is.  One of my favorite note conversations took place during a training at a corrections facility in which the normally very serious director of clinical services sitting next to me slid his notepad over to my space after writing “This is the most useless training in the history of ever.”  Thanks to his initial outreach, we amused ourselves thoroughly for the rest of the day utilizing this tactic as well as number 9.   



6. High School Who’s Who.  Look around the room and choose the people for the categories in your head.  Who would get best dressed?  Most talented?  Most likely to get a promotion? Most likely to have an affair with a co-worker?  Most likely to think you are a slacker for not paying attention right now?  Most proficient at kissing the boss’s ass? (the last two are usually the same person).  


5. Twilight Zone Entrapment. This game is in reference to an old Twilight Zone episode in which a group of people are trapped in a moment of time, in this case your meeting.  Time has moved on with the real you, and this old you is stuck in a moment with only the people in that room.  You can move out of the room to the empty earth, but no one else will be there.  Where do you go and what do you do? What would the others choose to do with their lonely existence?  


4. Lord of the Flies.  Imagine that the lot of you in that room have crash landed on an island and have no hope of being rescued.  Who forms in what groups and who emerges as leaders? Who is in the evil group and who is among the good?  Who will work harder than everyone else to build huts, and who will be the first poor soul eaten if cannibalism rears its ugly head? Warning: this fantasy can evoke sadistic thoughts and should not be utilized by anyone who was over sympathetic to Jeffery Dahmer. 

3. Desert Island.  You can pick one other person in the room to be with you forever on a desert island.  Obviously you want to choose someone to be your love interest because eternal celibacy would not be interesting or fun.  If you are a heterosexual man or lesbian in the social work field, this should be an easier one for you because there are usually lots of  females to choose from   If you are a woman or gay man, this fantasy will be a good opportunity to ponder your sexuality in case your hand were ever so forced. This will also be the case if there are other people in the room that are of the gender you prefer but they are all extraordinarily unattractive.  

2. Boredom Texting.  Boredom Texting as it pertains to redundant trainings consists of texting your colleagues within the same room secretly with humorous anecdotes, being careful not to be caught and offending the typically well-meaning trainer.  Under no circumstances should boredom texting ever be allowed to turn into workplace sexting.  Not only is it inappropriate for the workplace, but there are really no sanitary places to sneak off to should you both become hot and bothered.  If you just said to yourself 'the bathroom', get off my blog you dirty, dirty harlot. 

Number,  hmm. I said get off, you.  Only the cleanliness conscientious may proceed to number one. 




1.Play-Dough.  This is the best tactic I have found, because it allows me to amuse myself and still listen somewhat for important (unlikely) information.  It requires that you be prepared with the play dough on your person, and a short prepared excuse about having ADHD and needing to occupy your hands during such situations.  I used this tactic recently during an exceptionally boring all day training. Pictured below are the fruits (and vegetables and flowers and heart and gecko) of my labor.

Thank goodness for cool supervisors...

When I was still a teenage slave working a fast food drive- through, I used to dream about the day when I had a job with a real office, an executive desk, an 8-5 workday, informative training days and very important meetings. Of all these, I have managed to realize only the dream of the office, and mine I'm quite sure was actually meant to be a broom closet.

There is no 8-5 workday, my desk isn't even real wood, and I can't remember the last time I had a truly informative training day or really important meeting. I do learn things sometimes and I do think that the work I do is very important,  but most of the time meetings are formalities with all of the major work being done prior to or after the fact and trainings are a long, boring rehash of something someone has told you a hundred times already.

Since I am new to the particular agency I currently work for, I have literally been in training for months.  Although I actually appreciate that fact and did not prefer to be thrown to the wolves upon hire, I have done similar work for years and most of the training is about things that I could teach to the instructors in my sleep. Not that I haven't learned anything at all.  For example, today I learned that the ceiling in the training room has 246 tiles and that the two air conditioning vents have been severely neglected by the cleaning service.

I was joined in training today by several other social workers from my office, since it was a training on 'Brand New Material'.  Apparently in our agency, brand new means that they changed one sentence of a 2000 page policy and we must all be re-trained on the whole thing. Since they had been trained on the material (except for the one sentence of course) many more times than I had, they were even more bored than me.  This caused among them a phenomenon known as boredom texting.

Boredom texting as it pertains to redundant trainings consists of texting your colleagues within the same room secretly with humorous anecdotes, being careful not to be caught for fear of offending the usually well-meaning trainers.  I have no objections to boredom texting as long as the training is truly ridiculous, the trainers never get upset or offended, and the texters and textees maintain their composure and do not disrupt the rest of the trainees who are perhaps new to the planet and have a need to actually listen to the material.

Unfortunately, my co-workers and I eventually received a text that was so funny we were all forced to lose our composure and laugh loudly or else urinate on ourselves trying to hold it in.  We chose to laugh loudly, which then resulted in a domino effect of breaking all the bordom texting rules mentioned previously.  Our loud laughter caused us to lose our composure, disrupt the rest of the trainees and was obviously noted by more than one of the trainers, who were likely disgruntled by our outbursts. Thank goodness for us, the offending texter turned out to be our supervisor, who apparently has an amazing sense of comedy.  She was also one of the trainers, and  being careful to save the feelings of her comrade trainers she appeared to chastise us appropriately for our immature behavior.

Now, I can't tell you what was so funny, but I can tell you that I have a whole new respect for my supervisor and her ability to sympathize with our pain and relieve it adequately to the best of her ability during our very boring day.

I can tell you about the last boredom text I received at my previous job from the psychologist sitting across from me at an administrative meeting.  He wanted to inform me that the clerk sitting next to him was sexting with the attorney sitting next to me.  Now those two were just out of line.

Because I have been writing, just not here....

I have been having the hardest time keeping up with this blog.  I just commented on another social work site that I appreciated funny blogs and had trouble finding any before starting my own that also pertained to social work.  However, now that I have committed myself to such an endeavor, it is very difficult to keep up on a daily basis and I have had the pleasure of watching my visit count go from several hundred to one or two a day. If you have ever sat and refreshed the view counter over and over instead of focusing on new material, you know exactly what I mean.  In any case, I have been writing, just slightly more seriously due to an upset by a recent issue in our US media with radio talk show host Dr. Laura.  You can read my rant on the issue of racism and of my dissatisfaction with Dr. Laura in general here.  Of course I have been writing other things as well, but if anyone at work ever knew about all of the nerd-love erotica I write I might be out of a job.  Wow, I couldn't help myself just now and googled that to see if such a thing actually existed and all I can say is don't search that term at work or in your home if you don't want your tech guy to think you have a pornography addiction. Now, if your tech guy is really nerdy and you are actually into that sort of thing, by all means, search away.

UPDATE:  Apparently I need to learn to close out my browser before I abandon my laptop to go to work.  My spouse apparently uses my laptop occasionally (no idea why the three other computers in the house aren't sufficient for him) and thinks that I have a nerd-love erotica fetish, whatever that is.  I mean, I guess its true that I am attracted to nerds, and he is aware that I have always found The Professor,  Jeff Goldblum and John Stewart extremely attractive, but now he thinks I have a 'problem'. I'll let you know if he becomes jealous and starts reciting physics equations in the bedroom.  Actually, that might be kinda hot...

Some social support for Eminem

I have a confession to make: I am a closet gangsta rap fan.  I know that it probably seems that this is one of those instances where I am making an attempt at humor, but I really am a rap fan and at the top of my list of favorites (which includes Immortal Technique and Tupac) is the infamous Eminem.  Not only does he have enough gangsta flavor on some songs to make me pretend I’m a badass behind the wheel of my minivan after I drop the kids off, he is just plain hysterical sometimes.  Its like getting two flavors for one, a hip-hop, comedy Reeses if you will.  I am aware that all of the above named artists would likely be ashamed to include me in their fan base, and I also realize that I frequently look ridiculous behind the wheel when indulging my musical tastes, but the social commentary provided in almost all music makes this particular genre hard to resist. 

Recently, Eminem has gotten a lot of press over his song with Rihanna “Love the Way You Lie”, and its portrayal of the cycle of domestic violence.  Some have said that it is a brilliant and accurate depiction of the cycle, some have praised him for sparking a conversation about the dangers among young people, and some have just been downright nasty about attacking him for glorifying the subject.   The latter are those who I believe need to go sit on a tack, not because I would like to eat M&M’s off of Eminem’s rock hard, now drug-free abs, but because in my opinion their views of domestic violence are sexist.

In fact, I think that the way most of us in the social work field treat domestic violence is extremely sexist and it bothers me so much that this attitude is so prevalent that I can only express my true opinion within the anonymity of an internet blog.  

As a result of this controversy,  it was stated by prominent women’s advocates that only 2 year olds and violent men use violence to get what they want.  Apparently, these people never met half of my female clients.  Now, before all of you social workers get your panties and one pair of briefs in a bunch, let me say that I do believe there is a good deal of domestic violence that is reflective of the classic sort we learn about.  Man controls woman, woman is abused, woman is too weak/poor/scared to leave.  However, I also believe that brand of domestic violence is a species in danger of extinction. 

Women are now in a position in our society to be the abusers, and more and more it is so.  Many women who would not have had the resources in place 20 years ago to successfully leave their husbands can do so now, and be fully supported in doing so.  In many of the cases I have seen, the violence has indeed been mutual contrary to popular and widely held assumptions.  In many other cases, the woman has been just as emotionally abusive as the man in the relationship, and although it is taboo to ever say that a woman ‘incites’ domestic violence, we all know that it does happen frequently. I know there is no excuse for physical violence; I do realize the danger in this attitude, and am well versed in not blaming the victim in any situation.  I just think that in something as complicated as domestic violence, it is also just as dangerous to not consider each member a victim of their own environment and circumstances.

The only thing we are accomplishing in demonizing men for things such as domestic violence is an eventual backlash from men and women who recognize the unfairness of this attitude. We are also excusing and removing any role that women may play in the process, and therefore not actually finding effective solutions. 

The Value of a Nemesis

Even those of us who are naturally comical occasionally find reasons for depression, and tonight I lament my own reason for my current sadness: the loss of my nemesis. Before I explain about her, I would like to explain the concept of valuing a nemesis at all.

Since I was but a tot, I can remember being dramatic. The phrase drama queen had not been coined at the time of my birth, which was fortunate or it might have ended up being my first and middle name. I'm quite sure I came out of the womb with a top hat and cane to announce my own victory over the birth canal. Somewhere during my childhood, I discovered that I might not get along with everybody all the time and when this would happen, I assumed my only choice was to make those people my sworn enemies for life. While I recognize now that it requires way too much energy to do this with everyone, coupled with the fact that occasionally its me who turns out to be the ass in a situation, I no longer see this as my only option. I do still, however, usually manage to find that one person in my life that I dislike to the extent of calling them my nemesis. Most of the time, due to simple convenience, these will be co-workers.

I think there are several reasons that I find having a nemesis so appealing. First and foremost, finding fault with someone else all the time affirms your own judgments about behaviors, standards and morals. I spend a lot of time tolerating 99.9 percent of people's transgressions, helping them no matter how deplorable their behavior, and I need that one person to actually despise, perhaps. I am employed to help the most unfortunate in our society, so its possible I feel that someone I consider to be equal to myself in education and opportunity is fair game for criticism. Whatever the case, I have had a nemesis at most points my whole working career. Its exciting, motivational, and fun for me. It provides me with an arena in which to be very dramatic, and probably makes me a better worker due to my own competitiveness.

While I usually have chosen an attorney or doctor to be my nemesis, at my current job it was a fellow worker in my main office. This was a new job for both of us, and she had never done any type of social work before. From the first week of employment, she apparently decided she did not like me and when she proceeded to make my life a living hell, I cheered myself up by saying to myself "Wait a minute... NEMESIS, yeah baby, got one already!" She was quite the adversary too. She was intelligent, hmm. Well, I guess thats all. She was intelligent. I was going to list all her good traits but that's it. Now for the bad ones: arrogant, judgmental, shallow, materialistic, stubborn, inconsiderate, rude, obnoxious, self-centered, mean, crazy, pig-headed, obsessively compulsive, borderline-borderline, ridiculously oppressive. I think that about covers it. She was an ultra-conservative republican who obsessed over the abuse of the welfare system, doing social work. I swear I'm not making that up.

In any case, it was the first time that having a nemesis actually almost became unproductive for me. It got to the point that she infuriated me on a daily basis, and it wasn't long before she had infuriated others in the office as well. I spent every day for the last month waiting for her to quit or get fired, but when she finally quit this week I found myself actually feeling a little bad. As if I willed it to happen. I mean, I did, but I'm not so naive to think that my wishes actually have the capacity to affect reality. (My sister really does think that she can cause bad things to happen to others by thinking badly of them, but thats another blog)

It was for the best. She really had no stomach for social work and now will not have any opportunities to make children or grown men cry and hate us all. I'm going to miss her though, and that adorable little way she used to spew hate everywhere. So I say to you, fellow nemesis collectors, value your nemesis while they are still around to be the object of your critique. Recognize what they add to your life, and how because they exist, you don't have to be so critical of everyone else.

The Anti-Social Workers

Is it just me, or are there a lot of social workers that aren’t very social, or work oriented for that matter? I thought I would attempt to sort through some of the categories of social workers that should find a new profession. I mean, let’s face it, some folks just are not cut out for taking on all the ills of society. It doesn’t make them bad people, it just makes them make all of us look like bad people. Now, I know that I do my best to keep my anonymity when posting anything on the internet, but I write this entry with great fear that someone who knows someone who knows somewhat who I am will read it and assume I am talking about them. Just so you know, I am : ) In all seriousness, if you think you see yourself in any of the categories below, please exit this ride to your left and enjoy the rest of your life.

The Debutante

This is that chick that grew up privileged and wealthy, who really does want world peace, so she nobly gets a job that she thinks will help save humanity. She didn’t realize that saving humanity would require her to walk in neighborhoods that might steal the silicone from her breasts. She was never told that she might have to be nice to children who were covered in dirt and smelled like eggs. She somehow envisioned that she would only be saving pretty people who would share in her appreciation of a fabulous conditioner. Most of these debutantes do not really come from wealth at all, but honestly believe they do. While their hearts are in the right place, and I really do appreciate that they wanted to help, they should put their talents to something they have the stomach for, like fundraising for world peace.

The Lazy Bum

We all know that even the greatest, hardest social worker will get behind on their work due to time constraints, too many cases, not enough workers and a lack of funding (thanks, congress, really) but that is not who I am referring to. I am referring to the lazy bum who pretends to be working all the time but just isn’t. I am talking about the worker that spends more time wasting time than not. For example, consider the worker that plays games on their desktop all day, or the one that goes out on a case and really ends up at the mall three counties away so that nobody sees them not working. They falsify documents as well as their timesheets and will seldom be caught because everyone else actually is too busy to notice. If this is you, do me a favor: raise both hands in the air perpendicular to your face and then swing each of them, one after the other, in line with your jaw line. Thanks.

The Power Tripper

I know that it seems contradictory to social work, but that is precisely my point. I have, throughout my years, seen various workers that actually get off on the fact that they are in a perceived position of authority over their clients. Perhaps they look too much like Betty Crocker to be taken seriously in law enforcement or maybe they have some delusions as to the power that they actually do have, but it happens. They usually make life miserable for their clients and are even less productive than the debutantes or the lazy bums because they can actually do further damage to people’s lives that the rest of us then have to undo. Also, unlike the previous two categories, these people usually never have good intentions in the first place. If you come across a true power tripper, you must suggest to them that you believe their talents should not be wasted in this field. Talk them into going into law enforcement, government, or a lion’s den. I know that if they take your advice they will likely be shot, defeated or chewed to bits but just remember that it’s for the greater good.

Munchausen Mother Theresa

You know they are out there. They take a run of the mill social work case and turn it into a devastating tragedy in their minds. By some cruel fate they are always seem to be working with the characters from a Lifetime movie. They turn children into victims, patients into appellants, well meaning relatives into murder suspects, and drag one month cases on for years. While it is my opinion that this category is the least annoying and dangerous of all I’ve listed, you should still prepare yourself for the fact that they probably aren’t going anywhere. There is just enough real tragedy in the field to keep them interested, and we can only hope that in between imagining things they manage to get their work done.

If none of the above definitions fit you to a tee, congratulations!!! You most likely pass muster for not being the cause of my migraines. Please remember that it is your duty to identify those who do and quickly formulate a plan to eliminate them from the profession. You know, right after you finish all of the other work you have to do.

You Might Be a Social Worker If...

I read a funny and much appreciated list of ‘ways you know you are a social worker’ here and thought that I had to add a few of my own. So, ladies and gentlemen, you know you are a social worker if:

1. You become concerned when you hear someone say “I’m gonna kill so and so” because they might mean it literally.

2. You think that having a mortgage is downright luxurious.

3. You scan rooms for possible weapons when you are talking to others, in case you needed them.

4. Everyone you know calls you during a high profile case hoping you will suddenly forget the ethics you have explained to them 2.5 billion times.

5. People with PhD’s and law degrees constantly seek your advice while drawing three times the pay.

6. You have grown accustomed to being threatened in a violent manner, and honestly don’t worry about it most of the time.

7. You can name at least three good things about any deplorable situation or person.

8. You used to be idealistic, but now recognize how cute that is.

9. You have taken time management courses and still can’t manage your time.

10. You have the ability to recognize that a drug dealer is really an entrepreneur, and a that most sociopaths would make excellent attorneys, and can find a way to convince each of them that they really can focus their strengths in a legal manner.

Why would anyone choose social work?

When I was 6 years old I wanted to be an astrophysicist. Actually, I just wanted a job looking at the stars and my brother taught me the very impressive term 'astrophysicist' and I began saying it frequently when I learned that it impressed adults very much. I also wanted to be a truck driver, a princess, a rock star, and President of the United States. Not once, however, in all my youth, did I ever dream of being a social worker.

I doubt that I even knew what a social worker was until sometime in early adulthood. I remember going through a phase during that time when I had the overwhelming desire to change the world, and I decided to take a class in sociology to test the waters. After intro to soc, I decided that the field was obviously too complicated and boring at the same time (quite a feat) for me to entertain that path further. I decided to pursue a psychology degree instead, because I recognized by that point that perhaps spending a career around those with more mental issues than myself might be good for my self esteem.

Now, since my loins had been sanctioned as a baby factory during these years, and production was lucrative, my choices had no immediate consequences. I did not use my education in psychology for several years after college and instead spent my time shaping the world of my three children. It was not until a devastating divorce and a sudden need to find employment that I gave any thought at all to my career choice. I learned quite quickly that possessing only an undergraduate degree in psychology is like buying a house with the roof missing. You spent a ton of money but it is not actually functional. Interestingly enough, however, the one thing I found that was remotely related to my field was a case manager position at a mental health facility for juvenile delinquents.

The pay was not great, but it kept food in our mouths and I was in no position to be choosy. It marked the beginning of a career in social work that was accidental, but perhaps destined. I'm still here, after many years although I have switched positions, locations and specialties a few times. The only thing that has remained consistent (other than the chaos) is that I have always worked and continue to work with generally underprivileged families.

Some days, I still want to save the world. Some days, I do. Other days, I envy Ted Bundy. I have been burned out, burned back in, seasoned, tenured, assaulted, combative, unappreciated, over-credited, and overwhelmed. I see the best and the worst of human nature on a daily basis, and I live each day to tell about it.

When attempting to think of a name for this blog, I finally decided on the social work cynic for two reasons: a) my other clever name ideas were taken already and b) I like that the word cynic has an interesting history. When we hear the word cynic today, we generally think of the distrusting, sarcastic individual that is the eternal pessimist of human nature. However, cynicism, in its traditional philosophic roots was almost in complete contrast. It promoted abandoning material possessions, fame and power. It championed self-sufficiency. Since my view on social work definitely fluctuates from kumbaya to murderous rage depending on the day, I think the duality of the term 'cynic' is appropriate.