Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, It's Off to Work I Go

I start a new job tomorrow, Wednesday, September 16, 2020, ending 45 days of unemployment.

I didn’t shout from the roof tops that I was fired on July 31, 2020. Although it came as a shock, after a few hours I realized that this was one of those situations when the Universe, God, Karma, a Higher Power, whatever you choose to call “it”, intervened and made a decision for me my deep, inner-self knew I should make, but I didn’t have the courage to do so. I even said that in the message I left for my shrink. Although I loved the clients I worked with, the brass tacks of the “job” was becoming a shit-show I didn’t want any part of or responsibility for. My parting words there are: Good luck at the upcoming annual Federal review. You’re fucked.

I’m not naming my new employer so don’t even ask me. I’ve removed my profile from Linked In. I removed the previous agency where I worked from my employment history on Facebook and I no longer “follow” them. You won’t find the name of my new employer associated with me in any way on social media. I’ve been fucked too many times by employers trampling all over my First Amendment rights while I’ve never disclosed any PHI (Protected Health Information) or violated anyone’s HIPAA (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) rights. Yet somehow, I managed to get myself in trouble with previous employers, particularly by what I write about in this blog.   

I am a storyteller. If you’ve ever had a conversation with me, you’ve encountered me “setting the background” of whatever it is I’m finally going to tell you or engage in conversation with you about. My case notes can be horrendously long if I’m not mindful of keeping it to the “Description, Affect, Plan”. I am well aware of the ethical boundaries of my profession regarding confidentiality. No one has ever accused me of violating anything related to inappropriate disclosure of PHI because I never have. Simple enough from my point of view.

I’ve documented something every day of the last 45. It could be whom I spoke with regarding Food Share or comparing insurance plans on the healthcare.gov marketplace. It could be how useless and disappointed in myself I felt because I could no longer provide my husband’s Part B for Medicare by having employer sponsored health insurance. It’s there and sometime in the future I’ll re-read all of it; just not when doing so feels like walking across a sea of grit.

Tomorrow I’ll get up, shower, do my make-up (minus lipstick because thank heaven we’re all still wearing masks at work), and try to do something with my hair that doesn’t look like it’s 1986 and hanging over my eyes. I choose my work clothes the night before which prevents me from standing in front of my closet and drooling in the morning while I attempt to make a shirt and a pair of pants not look like I’m walking off a golf course in 1974.

As you get up and go to wherever it is you work, remember that I’m with you. Starting something new.


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