index | archives | notes Wednesday, Jun. 18, 2008 1:58 a.m. << [ No, I Don't Like It ] >> Trying to find a replacement daycare for Judge. The current one charges full tuition for half a day, insists that repetitive, stemming behavior is acceptable as long as he's not throwing tantrums, and make his mother feel guilty for having a son with autism. His mother, possibly the sweetest woman I know, who gives me hugs and fresh vegetables to take home to my own. How dare she have a son with autism. Too much work! To say I'm feeling frustrated is an understatement. What this boils down to is, no one is willing to take the extra time, no one gives a fuck. Every job is just a job, something to do to pay bills, and I don't understand that. I want a job I can pour myself into and be successful at, I want to nurture things and watch independence blossom. I want to create healthy, happy people, nine to five be damned, I'll work around the clock if that's what it takes. "Even though you're younger than me, you're more mature by a lot," said the boyfriend. "You stick with things. When I get off work, as soon as I'm out the door, I turn off my work phone, and I don't turn it on again until I'm back in the building. But you," he said, "you don't do that." "Can't," I said. "Won't." << | x | >> whatiscopyright.org