Jobless... but still fabulous?

Well, yesterday didn't exactly go quite as I'd planned. There I was sitting at my desk expecting an email from William telling me he was really digging my aftershave, but instead I got one from the Pregnant Boss asking me and Little Lou if we could have a 'sit down' at 2:30pm.

I thought the meeting would involve her asking us to take on lots more work due to all the people who've left recently. I was going to become something of a publishing martyr and agree to the hefty workload all for the love of the job.

However, she actually said that due to the 'management restructure', our jobs would cease to exist by the end of the year. Therefore as of Christmas we will officially be redundant.

I think we were both as shocked as each other, because with all the staff leaving, there's quite a lot of work that needs doing and no one here to do it. (I think the true motivation might simply be that our faces don't fit and they want rid.)

After our discussion, there was a bigger meeting for all editorial staff where the future of the company was discussed and then we closed the office at 4pm so we could all go to the pub to 'debrief'.

As a 'gesture of goodwill', they put a tab behind the bar, so I gladly sank my first beer with ease. But I noticed that there was an undercurrent of aggression bubbling away just under my surface, so I did a 'tabloid journalist' and made my excuses and left.

I could just see me having one too many and then telling a few people what I really think of them. Obviously, I would have told William we were going to get married, but I also saw me tapping the Pregnant Boss on the shoulder and telling her that since she became the head honcho, the company had rapidly 'gone down the shitter'. And then there's the Jagged Toothed Back-Stabbing Office Snide. I would probably have asked him what his wife and kids think of the 'friendships' he has with all the homos in the office.

My dignity in tact, I can focus all my energy on applying for new jobs. Any work that is brought to my desk today - and for the next 8 weeks - will be met with the following response: "Well, that doesn't really apply to me as I'm being made redundant."

Merry Christmas everyone!