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Kid got canned again
polydad
Zack got fired yesterday. He'd been there a bit over a year, much like his last job. He's getting a little bit more clued in about how to tell when things aren't going right, but still not fast enough to placate his employers. They're giving him a month's severance, which is nice as far as it goes.

From what I can tell from what little he shares with me, the main problem again was his social skills -- not knowing when to ask for help, for the most part. He *did* have a real tough employer, so his having the Aspie Talk with his boss may have been seen as making excuses.

Right now *I'm* in the middle of reorganizing my head, and feeling his pain is a pain in my own metaphorical butt I could have done without. I know this kind of "feeling" is an illusion, but being an illusion doesn't make it any the less real -- I have a pain in my Zack, and it hurts, and pain is distracting. And he only likes help if he explicitly asks for it, so I've got both a fair amount of shutting up to do and some very delicate questioning to plan out for when he *does* finally get around to asking for it, because he also only wants as *much* as he asks for, even when (almost always) he's not asking for enough or on the right subjects. ("What was wrong with the way I was arranging the deck chairs that caused the ship to sink?")

I've signed up for a political-protest bus trip leaving Saturday for LA; about time I visited Dad down there anyway, I like the cause (justice in the Philippines), and it's about a hundred bucks cheaper than flying there and back. I can write more about that both in a bit and from the road; right now I need to email them about scheduling so I can tell Dad when I'll be visiting.