We’ve been rather thrown on our beam ends this week.
[Incidentally, isn’t ‘thrown on our beam ends’ and delightfully Shackletonian way of expressing oneself? I shall keep it].
Now, H is the main hunter-gatherer of our tiny tribe (two humans, a cactus, and several hundred books), earning as he does pretty much double what I do. He also enjoys his job, is good at it, and finds it pretty fulfilling. I find my (crappily paid) job increasingly tiresome (I’m only in it for the maternity leave these days ahahahahahah. Oh, and the pension. The pension’s not bad), I’m fresh out of promotion opportunities, and I’d very much like a chance to do Something Else if only someone would pay me to shut up and go away. So if one of us was to find out that there was to be a Merger and a Shutting Of Offices and a General Relocation, with concomittant Uncertain Futures and Redundancies All Round, wouldn’t it be nice if it were me?
Of course it isn’t me.
Neither of us care for a) change or b) uncertainty, you know.
The next few months are going to be the donkey’s scrotum, they really are.