Thoughts about work

I have been at my new job for about 7 months now. This seems like a good time to share some of my impressions. I currently work in government as a Policy Analyst in Los Angeles at the county level. My job involves doing research about many different issues and providing clear and easily-understandable recommendations. I hadn’t appreciated the diverse nature of my job until I took some time to truly think about it. If I describe the kinds of projects I have worked on during the past few days, it will provide a decent idea of what I mean.

Three days ago, I was researching massage establishments. Before starting this job, I had no idea that Los Angeles has a serious sexual trafficking problem. Young women are brought over from other countries and they are essentially coerced into sexual slavery. They work primarily at massage establishments that have “un-advertised services” for clients who are interested in such sexual services. My main research task in this area has been to look into various ways that current regulations can be updated to help fight against sexual trafficking.

Two days ago, I was looking into electronic scooters since they have been popping up all over the place around Los Angeles seemingly overnight. As useful as these things are for transportation and fighting against traffic, they come with all kinds of issues dealing with safety and riders dumping their scooters all over sidewalks and other locations. I’ve been asked to look into ways that other cities are handling the influx of e-scooters and what can be learned from them when it comes to crafting our own approach.

Yesterday, I was researching car wash facilities and how these businesses are often rife with violations dealing with wage theft and other kinds of abuses. The employees at these businesses are taken advantage of and I have been asked to research strategies that can help fight against such abuses.

Today, I have been looking into ways to update auto repair shop regulations in ways that can help protect consumers from being taken advantage of.

This position is not my “dream job” and it’s not a job I would consider myself passionate about. However, I think it’s important to stop and explicitly think about the ways we DO enjoy our work. We spend so much of our lives working and it’s a shame that hating one’s job is such an accepted part of life for a lot of people. It’s a society-wide cliché at this point.  Most people automatically assume that you likely don’t enjoy your job and you work because you need to, not because you want to.

A Stack of Christmas Cards

Sometimes, we come upon realizations from the most unexpected places. For me, one such place was the table in my apartment. I received Christmas cards recently and they are on top of the kitchen table in a messy stack.  It's not too much of a stretch to state that for most people, greeting cards bring joy and remind them of the people who care about them. This is the "normal" reaction someone should have in such a situation. My reaction? Well, I guess that's where my realization occurred.

For those who have not read my blog, part of my day job involves searching through the last known residences of lonely deceased individuals who passed away in Los Angeles County. One of my responsibilities is to try to locate living relatives for these folks. One of the main strategies I use when searching through a residence is to find greeting cards and personal letters from family and friends. I then read the cards and check the return addresses for clues on where potential family might reside. Why am I describing all this? Well, this is important context for what I experienced when I looked at the stack of Christmas cards on my table.

What did I think when I looked at those cards? Did I think of the people who sent them to me? Did I think of the importance of family and friends and staying connected? Did I think of all the positive and wonderful feelings associated with the holidays? No, unfortunately I didn't. The very first (and vivid) thought that came to mind was my own death and what would someone in my position do if they were searching through my apartment. Would they go straight to the cards and find return addresses? If they know how to do their job, they most likely would.

Sometimes, we aren't strong enough to handle the emotional burden of a situation. I thought I could handle this job, but I don't think I can. I believe it's time to admit that the presence of these morbid thoughts in mundane situations isn't normal and I need to find a new position as soon as possible so I don't have to deal with such feelings any longer (or as often). I wouldn't have come upon this realization (or at least as soon as I did) if I hadn't looked at those Christmas cards and paid attention to my thoughts.

Being reminded of death every day is tedious. It's tiring. Thinking about the lives of lonely and wretched deceased individuals makes me tired. So. Fucking. Tired. At this point in my life, I am enough of a grownup to admit that something is too much for me to handle. Perhaps, "maturity is knowing what your limitations are" (Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle) and accepting them.

I am too afraid to share these thoughts with friends and family. I will just have to write them here for now.

One Day

For whatever reason, I would like to remember today’s events and how I felt about what happened.

For those who don’t know, at my current job, I investigate the estates of deceased individuals. Part of my duties involves searching through the residences of deceased individuals. Today, I had two such searches.

The first visit was to the apartment of an old man who was receiving dialysis before passing away. The witness who joined me during the search informed me that the old man used to play the piano and was in a band called “The Drifters.” But what she said next is what really caught my attention and stuck with me:

You know… I think he gave up. I’ve seen this before with the other tenants. He was on dialysis and he started missing his appointments. The doctor was calling us asking where he was. I’m pretty sure he gave up.

This is one of those moments when I have no words and I prefer silence. We both stood there without saying anything. I then resumed my search of the roach-infested and food-stained paperwork that lay in front of me

My second visit was to the apartment of an old Hungarian man who loved music and had an extensive vinyl collection. Upon entering his residence, I noticed he had 15 recent messages on his answering machine. I clicked play and waited patiently. An old woman started speaking in Hungarian. The witness and I had no idea what she was saying but one thing was clear, as the messages progressed, her tone became more and more desperate and concerned until she was eventually crying on the second to last message. Fortunately, on the very last message she spoke in English and said “Please… please call me.” She left her phone number. After reaching her, we found out that she is the deceased old man’s sister and she hasn’t seen him for over 30 years. She had recently found him again and they had been talking on the phone. She had a visit planned in a few days. Her voice started trembling and she said she will never get to see him now.  I had no words. We shared a brief moment of heavy silence.

And that was my day.

"Where are you calling from again?"

People often ask me how my job has affected me. They tell me things such as “That must be depressing… what you do. Is it?” and “You must have become really cynical and jaded.” I’ve never had a clear and detailed answer for them and my reply has consisted of aimless thoughts. Perhaps if I write my thoughts down, I can gain some clarity.

During the past year, I have been working at the Los Angeles County Public Administrator’s office. My job consists of researching the remaining assets of deceased individuals who often have no known family. I am also tasked with locating any family they might still have. My work involves searching through houses, apartments, storage facilities, basements, safe deposit boxes, vehicles, and numerous other locations where the deceased person might have lived or frequented. I try to attain clues that can lead to evidence of financial assets or remaining family. Often time this involves looking for financial paperwork, Wills, Trusts, pictures, diaries, letters and holiday cards from loved ones, and address and phone books. Eerily enough, checking the deceased person’s voicemail can lead to finding family as well.  The residences I go into often times qualify as ideal candidates for the show “Hoarders.” They are generally full of trash, animal feces (and sometimes animal corpses), human feces (either on the floor or in buckets), pornography, and a plethora of other items that a horror movie set designer could potentially use to try to make a location look as creepy and disgusting as possible. In one memorable instance, I recall an extensive collection of dolls with only their heads remaining. The same individual also had pictures of naked men and he had cut out their heads and pasted animal heads in their place.

My work also involves interviewing friends, acquaintances, business associates, landlords, and anyone else who might have information on remaining family. Often times, these individuals comment on how lonely and estranged the person was. A common theme is that the deceased individual never seemed to mention any specific details on his remaining family.  When I finally do get in contact with family, their reactions to the news of the individual’s passing can vary tremendously. They can either be indifferent and not be concerned at all or they can be in tears and barely be able to speak. Sometimes, they are enraged that I even dared contact them because the deceased individual either wronged them immensely or physically (or sexually) abused them.  I recall a case where the individual claimed she was tortured by the deceased individual.  Perhaps the most depressing instances involve boyfriends and girlfriends who were with the deceased individual for over a decade or more and they show not a hint of emotion or sadness in their voice when speaking to me.

On the financial front, I am in contact with banks, government agencies, investment firms, retirement homes, attorneys, retirement and pension departments, and any other organization that would have information on remaining assets. These organizations are suspicious of my questions and rarely assist us without a proper explanation of California law and the fact that they are required to follow it and cooperate with our office. Additionally, they have no idea where I am calling from and have a hard time believing that such a government agency even exists.

So where does this all lead? How have these situations affected me? Even after being immersed in these matters for over a year, I am unable to understand how I’ve changed. I would like to think that I have learned the value of genuine friendships and how important it is to forge meaningful and long-lasting bonds with other people. But at the same time, I have realized how rare such friendships are. I mention this because I see firsthand what happens when someone neglects their friends and family. They end up dying alone and rotting in their own juices for sometimes weeks at a time until someone finally discovers them as a result of the stench of decomposing flesh. I have also gotten tired of dealing with death and focusing on the past. I now know more than ever that I would like to devote myself to helping the living, whether in regards to aiding people or helping protect our natural environment (or ideally both). It has also become tedious to care about money and material possessions since in my own life I generally don’t care for such things outside of the bare necessities and very few luxuries (i.e. a kindle and a camera). My job requires me to care about such things and track down every last remaining asset. I’ve also become disillusioned from seeing undeserving awful people inheriting assets that they will squander. I’ve become frustrated that the remaining money does not get distributed to worthy charities and causes and instead, it eventually gets absorbed by the State Treasury or is given to a long lost family member who is discovered at a later time.

With that said, I am still thankful for the experiences I’ve had so far. I have learned to manage high levels of stress and work on numerous issues simultaneously without panicking or getting lost.  I’ve learned to be persistent and keep searching until I hit a complete dead end and there are no further clues to follow. Such perseverance is useful in nearly all aspects of life, both personal and professional. I’ve learned how to break down, condense, and convey information in the smallest amount of space possible while focusing only on the most important and relevant points. And finally, I’ve learned that even if I dislike a particular job, I am still able to not lose focus and take care of my responsibilities as a competent professional.  Like with most experiences in life, I will take the good with the bad and make sure the negatives are not wasted and are instead used as lessons for the future.

This post turned into a diary entry looks like. My thoughts were once again generally aimless. I guess this issue isn’t prone to being straightforward and clear. Oh well. That’s alright.