... I can't even begin to describe the clustercuck that is my job right now. I'll put in about 60 hours this week, easy. I held one of the clients in a physical restraint for HOURS yesterday (incidentally, that was my day "off"). She's currently in restraints now after kicking and biting other staff. And that's the easy part. The hard part is the official state investigations into alleged abuse by two of the staff who have worked at the house.
Shoot me. Shoot me in the face.
The REALLY hard part (ha) is that I have literally been unable to maintain the ability to count the calories that go into my mouth. I am physically not capable of being bitten, kicked, slapped, and punched WHILE holding a full-grown woman who has no concept of self-preservation in a physical restraint without eating. So I've been eating, and occasionally puking. (Don't tell anyone I said this, but hot damn do I wish mechanical restraints were legal in the residential setting. Physically holding someone who is very combative is HARD work, yo.)
But I guess it's hard enough work that I'm burning off the calories that do end up staying in my stomach, because the scale has been rewarding me. Not in leaps and bounds, but in decent enough increments (a few tenths of a pound a day) that I'm not completely freaking out... yet.
I imagine some people might consider eating vegetable soup with saltines and then going outside and puking it up in the woods "completely freaking out," but of course it's not. It's entirely rational and not disordered whatsoever.
Speaking of being not disordered whatsoever...
Today I was standing in a drugstore attempting to rectify a payment issue for one of the clients, and it was taking ages. The woman behind the pharmacy counter told me I could have a seat and wait until she called me. Teh interwebz tell me that standing burns more calories than sitting, so I chose to stand. After ten or fifteen minutes, I was completely zoned out, standing utterly motionless at the very end of an isle, right near the pharmacy. One hand on my hip, the other hand behind me with my thumb tucked into my back pocket. I was slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, I'm sure. An elderly woman walked up the isle and didn't notice me until she was fairly close. She jumped a little and said, "You look like a model, just standing there!"
Instantly, I felt very, very, VERY fat.
Because that's normal.
P.S. - While typing this, I got a call from the executive director of my company, as well as my program director being all OMG CAN YOU FILE REPORTS RIGHT THIS MINUTE SO WE CAN PROMPTLY IGNORE THEM UNTIL MONDAY?!!? Fine. Yes. I can. Dipshits. So I'm heading back into work shortly to file restraint reports.
FML. F all our Ls.


