Last Christmas I was made redundant. It was a bit shit.
Welcome to my Christmas Redundancy Diary. It’s a cracker.
You may like to read my introduction, or just dive straight in. But please wear a wetsuit, some of my comments are icy cold…….

DAY THREE

Breakfast; One piece of Vimto Fudge.

Being unemployed has meant a drastic reduction in my level of expended energy, but I must look after myself. Am therefore trying to consume less food to compensate. It’s important I remain healthy. I already feel as cumbersome, ungainly, incongruous and as unwanted as a walrus in a hat shop. I do not wish to resemble one. On a tangent; I have no idea if a walrus has the ability for such identity crisis type thoughts. But I do know that me as a walrus in a hat shop would feel completely out of my comfort zone, would struggle to communicate that it’s not where I want to be and no size, colour or style of millinery is going to improve my situation. And that’s where I’m at.

On account of the ridiculously small amount of calories I consumed at breakfast, I find I’m unable to achieve anything today that involves an upright stance. Maybe that’s for the best. Being vertical offers me the chance to glance out of a window; a hideous reminder that there is a world out there that is still turning. It’s not waiting for me to lick my wounds and gather myself. It doesn’t care that everything I worked for, created, evolved, researched and walked 4 miles a day for, for the last 5 years, has been taken away in a blink of an eye. Most of it dumped in a skip.

Fortunately, the horizontal option has not had too much of an impact on my daily activity. Even though I’m lying down, I’ve been able to carry on with the hyperventilating, shaking, panicking and crying. Phew.

I’m using artistic licence with the chronology, throwing in extra vowels and consonants for a fun, enjoyable read.
However, all events and breakfasts are accurately portrayed.

If you are employed or otherwise content and stable with your work/life/domestic situation, please pop over to WANTED. NOT WANTED. where you can have a smug, self-righteous, cosy giggle at my crumbling self-esteem. You’ll find my self-initiated Job Club, my ridiculous misguided applications for ANY kind of work and my redundancy diary, a revealing look into the day to day life of the lowlife worthless pits of humanity the unemployed. If you are not content and stable with your work/life/domestic situation, then let’s hold hands and stick our tongues out at the rest of the world. But you still have to go read all the stuff.