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Feb. 14th, 2013 03:48 pmSo things continue to be shit. I'm really struggling at the moment. Life is work, Mum and not sleeping (or nightmares, still not sure which I prefer!)
So work: The Government have decided my job is no longer needed, they're changing it so that only 20% of offenders will be managed by Probation Officers, the rest will be farmed out to private companies and volunteers, with payment being target driven. No thought as to how you assess achievement of targets, no thought as to how to manage fluctuating risk, who does assessments, who picks up the pieces - the response to a question around offenders going on to commit serious offences without the current monitoring and risk management was a shrug and effectively "shit happens".
The reality of it, for our office and our numbers, is that we will need 3-5 Probation Officers only to manage the numbers, and none of the lower grade staff. Which is 70% redundancy for POs in my office, 100% for lower grades. The goal is that Probation services will create private companies and TUPE us across, but then they'd have to win the contracts and our salaries and leave etc wouldn't really be protected. All this will be made final in a week or two and will probably be instigated within the year.
If I lose my job? Well, I'm not qualified for another role without further training and have no money to start yet another degree. I'm lucky in that I will be able to move back with mother if it becomes a necessity but it's still shite on a stick while it's all so unknown.
In the meantime, I'm working 12-13 hour days trying to manage an excessive caseload and getting nowhere. Spending my days getting shouted at and threatened and am very clearly not waving but drowning.
I went to the doctor yesterday, for my ulcer medication - he says it should be better by now and has threatened me with further hospital referrals if I don't improve. He was talking to me, then stopped and asked what was wrong and I realised I was crying. He's a lovely chap. (Last week when we took Mum, he likened her kidneys to a tea strainer, then pointed out that hers was "a very old tea strainer"). He talked to me for a bit and wanted to sign me off, offering 3 times but I said no. Not quite sure why now, but there it is.
In the meantime if a man in lavender glasses stabs me, I foretold it in my dreams. So yay me
So work: The Government have decided my job is no longer needed, they're changing it so that only 20% of offenders will be managed by Probation Officers, the rest will be farmed out to private companies and volunteers, with payment being target driven. No thought as to how you assess achievement of targets, no thought as to how to manage fluctuating risk, who does assessments, who picks up the pieces - the response to a question around offenders going on to commit serious offences without the current monitoring and risk management was a shrug and effectively "shit happens".
The reality of it, for our office and our numbers, is that we will need 3-5 Probation Officers only to manage the numbers, and none of the lower grade staff. Which is 70% redundancy for POs in my office, 100% for lower grades. The goal is that Probation services will create private companies and TUPE us across, but then they'd have to win the contracts and our salaries and leave etc wouldn't really be protected. All this will be made final in a week or two and will probably be instigated within the year.
If I lose my job? Well, I'm not qualified for another role without further training and have no money to start yet another degree. I'm lucky in that I will be able to move back with mother if it becomes a necessity but it's still shite on a stick while it's all so unknown.
In the meantime, I'm working 12-13 hour days trying to manage an excessive caseload and getting nowhere. Spending my days getting shouted at and threatened and am very clearly not waving but drowning.
I went to the doctor yesterday, for my ulcer medication - he says it should be better by now and has threatened me with further hospital referrals if I don't improve. He was talking to me, then stopped and asked what was wrong and I realised I was crying. He's a lovely chap. (Last week when we took Mum, he likened her kidneys to a tea strainer, then pointed out that hers was "a very old tea strainer"). He talked to me for a bit and wanted to sign me off, offering 3 times but I said no. Not quite sure why now, but there it is.
In the meantime if a man in lavender glasses stabs me, I foretold it in my dreams. So yay me
