Today, I was recruited into helping out the Complaints and Grievances Department at work.
I was told I would be handling all incoming complaints. Woo hoo, I get to talk to pissed off people.

I wish I could tell you that I worked in retail and the complaints received were going to be about malfunctioning toasters. (Perhaps like the one Dawn had when I almost burned her house down.) No, no, no, unfortunately for me, that is not the case. I work in managed care. Better yet, non-profit managed care for behavioral health services for the Medical Assistance population. In other words, most of the complaints I’ll receive will be from the reality impaired, aka delusional people. With this, I have no problem, I relate well with them. My problem lies with the fucking bureaucratic bullshit that I’m going to encounter along the way.

Don’t get me wrong, yes, I am venting, but I chose this field for a reason and I am passionate about ensuring the quality of health care services to those with mental illness. However, we have oversight out the wazoo and the reporting is a nightmare. I can’t begin to relay the caliber of assholes I’ll be reporting to. I’m talking State officials. You know of whom I refer to, the ones that started as mail clerk and 40 billzillion years of tenure is rewarded with a title and an ego as big as Baltimore. Oh yea, this is going to be fun.

We recently experienced budget cuts and can’t replace the previous employee who ran screaming from the building. So, here I am, Director of Bitch.

I really must remove that flashing neon “Sucker” sign off of my forehead.