Oh, don’t even get me started on the federal prison staff.
You’d think that with the taxpayer dollars funding their salaries, they’d at least pretend to care about doing their jobs.
But nope, not these guys. Correctional officers, counselors, case managers – you name it, they’re all just a bunch of lazy bums who couldn’t give a rat’s tail about helping anyone.
Alright, strap in, because if you thought federal prison staff were the heroes of the hour, think again. These correctional officers? Supposed guardians of peace and order? Give me a break. Most days, they’re just milling around, too busy yapping away or glued to their phones to actually do the job. When chaos erupts, they’re nowhere, probably hoping the problem solves itself before they have to step up and actually work.
Now, let’s talk about the so-called counselors and case managers—the big shots who are supposed to guide us through this mess, help us rehabilitate, and prep us for the outside world. Guess what? They couldn’t care less. They’re just counting the days until they can kick back with a fat federal pension, completely detached from the lives they’re supposed to be transforming.
And don’t get me started on getting anything done around here. It’s a bureaucratic nightmare. Need a transfer or want to sign up for a program? Prepare for a saga of lost paperwork and unending delays, only to be told, “Sorry, can’t help you.” It’s an endless loop of incompetence.
Oh, and it’s not just the people at the top; it’s a whole system failure. The medical staff? Wouldn’t trust them with a Band-Aid. The maintenance crew? They’ll get to that leak in your cell… maybe next year. It’s like a collective nosedive in professionalism and accountability across the board.
But here’s the kicker—their incompetence sometimes plays right into our hands. Like my little side gig in the warehouse; if these folks had their act together, I’d have been in solitary a long time ago. So, cheers to their slack, I guess?
Still, it’s downright maddening to watch these staff members flounder, with zero regard for the jobs they’re supposed to do or the people they’re supposed to serve. Sure, we’re inmates, but doesn’t that still make us human? Apparently not enough to warrant decent oversight or care in the eyes of the federal pen. So, we adapt. We survive. We find ways to thrive amidst the apathy and sheer incompetence. That’s life in the feds for you—making the best of the worst, day in and day out.