The hardest thing about working for Santae was the after effects it had on my psyche. Specifically the “mole” stuff.
Like, to my face, CJ, and others, acted like I was their friend, like they didn’t suspect me at all.
I took this at face value and believed them all.
Turns out I was a prime suspect, because I was polite and didn’t talk over him when he was talking about stuff that seemed important, so he would forget I existed in VC.
Me not providing my home address for the staff shirt (which was optional) was apparently another red flag, but like, I’m disabled and live alone, so it’s a safety thing??? Apparently that didn’t matter though, because he pulled it from my PayPal info anyways~ so that he could run a scan on me that pulled one of the old tenants who used to live in my apartment’s info (sorry, Nancy).
The point I’m trying to get to, is that now I’m constantly worrying if the friends I’ve made through Santae actually do like me and consider me a friend, or if they secretly are wondering if I’m a spy… like, are there ulterior motives there?
Like, I’m already autistic and struggle with friendships, why did I need this extra layer???
The best part about Santae was the friendships I made though. We virtually hang out every day, and it’s so nice to have people with a common bond, even if that bond is the trauma of pet site employment. Lmfao
Note: this isn’t a call out or reveal post, it’s just me venting. If you’re reading this, Cloudmin, please don’t post to Salt blog.
