It pains me to relate, Blogspot Buddies, that the unhappy rumblings mentioned last week have become ear-shatteringly horrid thunderclaps of reality! I am being made redundant. I was not altogether surprised yesterday when the newish MD came into my office at quarter to five and said "I am really sorry, but I am going to have to let you go." In a way it took the decision out of my hands. Now I really have to find another job, I have no choice. My official leaving date is 16th May and my golden handshake consists of three weeks pay and any holiday I am entitled to up to and including this month. If I am lucky I may come out of it with a day or two extra but I am not holding my breath.
It was so weird that I was so utterly calm all the way home. Two minutes inside my front door, though, I blurted the news out to Hubby and promptly burst into a shock of tears - completely taking myself by surprise! Hubby wrapped his arms round me and said sweet things like "It's not your fault." and "We will get through this." and "It isn't the end of the world." I mean is he a darling or what?
Actually as luck would have it I was already in the process of completing an application form for what could be the most pefect job in the world for a Writer-On-The-Brink like me. Seven days on, seven days off with four of the seven on being mornings only and not one day finishing after 5 pm or so. The trouble is of course that jobs like that are so rare that it is odds on they are going to be inundated with replies. My one edge is that I worked there before - in a different capacity - but long enough to know where they are coming from. Anyway, I have posted the application form off (via the franking machine at the office - I might as well take 'em for every penny) today and the closing date is Friday so we will just have to wait and see. Hubby had a word with his manager last night who told him that, if things get desperate, they'd get me in there, somehow, even if it was only as a stop-gap until I've found my feet - or my ideal job, of course.
What really gets me the most is that this is the second time in three years that I have been made redundant. Honest - was it something I said? Or does the British workforce just have no time for middle-aged ladies? Losing the current job is no skin off my nose - I haven't been happy there for at least six months (as you all know) and, anyway, it's their loss. The real crux of the matter is the nagging feeling that, despite age legislation and everything else, middle aged people - and in particular women - just aren't wanted anymore. Sad really. Especially since I still feel more than capable. I don't think I am over the hill yet. We will just have to wait and see what happens now. If I can get some writing done during the interim period, all well and good. I know I am too good to waste! I will keep you updated. If it all gets too much you can always switch me off and go and make a nice cup of tea!
I had a hospital appointment today ( I know - it never bloody rains but it always bloody pours). My doctor is worried by the fact I am anaemic - and have been for over six months. Evidently, my blood count is 11 when the average is 12 (11 what? 12 what?) and they are exploring all the options - including the fact I am vegetarian (I haven't eaten red meat in at least fifteen years and only had chicken once when there was no choice on the menu - that was in Paris so I blame the French). I do eat tuna at least once a week and salmon once in a blue moon but that's it. The other option could be Polyps (what-yps? Do doctors speak plain simple English anymore?) Everyone is saying what might be at the root of it, but not why or how! As I just said to Bro in Denmark, doctors seem to think that everybody has a degree in medical teminology. I have been told I have to go for an endoscopy in a few weeks. I kind of know what one of them is and I am dreading it already. I am sure I will think I am choking to death, despite being told I'd be sedated. Hubby said "You probably won't know anything about it." When the consultant mentioned the procedure I just said "Why have I got to have that? I am just a bit anaemic. There is nothing else wrong with me. I feel fine." He looked quite uncomfortable under my accusing gaze. He shrugged and said "It is the only way we can find out." I said "But why? Find out what?" He just said unhelpfully "It is a standard procedure." I gave up at that point. Even when you ask you don't get answers, so why ask?
Oh well - big sigh - such is life.
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2 comments:
Oh, Jilly..life has a mysterious way of kicking you up the arse when you doubt yourself. Personally I think this is perfect for you..I'd rather hand to mouth it than do something I loathe everyday..life's too bloody short..loads of luck with the new job prospects..sounds ideal :)
Anaemia..hmmm..I've fluctuated between 9 & 10 since having my second daughter..& no amount of iron gets it up..I've even tried the disgusting liquid stuff. I'm just waiting for blood test results now as I'm severely lacking in energy..they've tested for the obvious stuff, but also for Coeliac as my boy has it..anaemia is a symptom..I'll cry if I've got it..I love bread passionately..every kind, EXCEPT the gluten-free crap they churn out..
Anyway..
SMILE, DANCE, LAUGH..
turning points are a highlight of life x
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