Most of you will be aware that I’m heading for the chop at work. The next eight weeks or so will be fraught, with some of my colleagues deciding to leave our organisation (after giving the better part of their working lives to it), and others choosing to stay put because they can’t afford not to.
Those of us with no choice but to stick it out are now in the invidious position of having to compete against each other for the jobs that remain in the new structure. There are a number of options I can take, but each one has its drawbacks, so I’m flapping like a fish on land, wishing I could hide under the duvet until it’s all over.
I have about 7 days to decide which jobs I want to apply for and in which order. I spend hours trawling the internet, looking for something that will convince me that one option is better than the other. Invariably, this means I go to sleep at about 2am.
Not the happy kind. Not the – Oh, I really just feel like grabbing the next flight out of here and never coming back kind (although I’ve been suffering bouts of that, too). No, all this tense ruminating is sowing malaise into my bones. I’ve got a stiff upper back, occasionally numb hands, and itchy feet. I can’t figure out whether the itchy feet are due to nerve damage somewhere, are psychosomatic, or just plain fungus. I’ve been using Ben’s anti-fungal cream (at his recommendation), but I still get woken in the wee hours of the morning by tickly toes. Given that there is precious little moisture on the bottoms of my feet, I can’t imagine it could possibly be fungus. Still, I apply the cream assiduously morning and night, hoping for an improvement. None so far.
Ben took Rosie to gymnastics, as always. But today, Rosie had a surprise for him hidden in her backpack: a card she’d made at school (with a penguin fashioned from construction paper and glitter on the front, and a little National Geographic animal card showing a giraffe on the inside. Ben’s running joke with Rosie is that giraffes live in trees). Daddy has a problem with giraffes, she wrote in the card, so here is one for you to look at. Rosie and I bought Ben a pair of cycling gloves at the local bike shop, which Rosie also had in her bag. She told me she gave him the gift on the tube back – and that he loved it. Yes, but giraffes do fly, don’t they? he teased. NO! she replied, grinning. Silly daddy.
Our supper was courtesy of Marks and Spencer (I always maintain they do very good Southeast and East Asian food): spicy Szechuan pork with Udon noodles, steamed prawn dumplings and vegetarian spring rolls. Rosie has a real affinity for food from this part of the world, and the dumplings and spring rolls were for her – along with some fresh greens and rice. Dessert was a lot of strawberries and some vanilla cheesecake. A little weekend indulgence – and why not, when Monday is hours away, bringing with it that familiar set of multiple choice questions that will plague me for the next several weeks. More cheesecake, anyone?