The last week of February 2013 and the fallout from the shock redundancy announcement was swirling all around. It felt as if black clouds were gathering, a storm brewing and I wasn’t sure I could weather one more storm. There was only one way to deal with it…look for the little things.
21 February 2013
Last night I stayed up far too late updating my LinkedIn profile in a kind of panic to take action. For the moment, I will stop short of actually looking for work. Feeling rather confused and scared I picked up the Messiah’s Handbook that was, for some strange reason, sitting on the coffee table. I closed my eyes, asked, what should I do and opened it. The page said ‘The smallest turn today will take you to a dramatically different tomorrow,’ Hmmm, I’m not sure that helped.
During my fitful sleep I dreamed I’d been left in charge of a very beautiful and delicate moth. It belonged to a friend and she loved it very much. The moth was in a very flimsy bag that didn’t close properly. There was a constant feeling of danger, fear that it would escape and fly away or I would hold it too tight and crush it. A very vivid dream and a very powerful image. Dreams are, I believe, messages from your self conscious. I woke without knowing if the moth survived, much as I don’t know if my job will survive, or if Silver Helm will survive for that matter.
Staying up until after midnight messing about with my LinkedIn profile and a night of poor, broken sleep had left me tired and feeling quite down. This down, depressed feeling has to stop. Somehow I have to get a handle on it and find the positive. I do still have a job, the worst might not happen. Like most of the Sliver Helm staff I have sneaking suspicion it will though.
Out I went, into another cold and frosty morning trying to pretend nothing has changed since the big redundancy bombshell dropped and not to let all the rather hopeless, frightening thoughts crowd in. The little things that make me happy are very important right about now. They stop me at the top of the slippery slope. That way lies madness, or at least a few tears and a chocolate bar. Today’s little thing was a coat, of all things.
At the weekend, when life was still normal and I was on eBay looking for boots I just happened to accidentally search for Ted Baker. Quite how that happened I don’t know when I was looking for Skechers but there it is, once I’m on there there’s no stopping me. Anyhow, there was this coat… all padded and snugly warm looking. I’ve never had a padded coat before, mainly because I was afraid the extra padding, on top of all the layers of natural padding, would make me look like the Mitchelen man, remember him, the man made of tyres? The colour and material, dark blue but sort of two tone black depending on the light, reminded me of a coat I saw in Cherbourg once and drooled over. I walked past that coat three times but was too afraid to try it on because I didn’t really have the money to buy it. It was eight hundred Francs (about eighty pounds) and back then that was about all the money I had in the world. How many years ago that was I’m not sure but the fact it was Francs will tell you it was back in the mists of time. I’ve never forgotten it though.
By some quirk of fate no one else bid on the coat on eBay, and my one little bid of the starting price won it for me. Talk about quick delivery, it arrived yesterday, in prefect condition, like it had never been worn. That seller is getting five stars for sure, she must have been hovering next to the post box waiting for the auction to end so she could post it. So this morning I was glad it was cold and frosty because it meant I could wear the coat. Small things….
There was no sun on the walk to work but lots of frost and gloom. The mad rowers were just setting off as I passed by and I hit the horrible crossing at exactly the right moment so I took the old back of the stadium route. It’s been ages since I walked that way and I was interested to see how the little garden was doing, the one where the sunflower used to grow. As it turned out not much seemed to have changed, maybe a bit more colour on the heather. At least it was still there, not vandalised or dead. At the end of the road the new planting box had been filled with plants and there were some colourful primroses brightening up an otherwise dull corner.
That coat is amazing, despite the cold I was boiling when I got to work. I could have done with it when we had all the snow. The atmosphere in the office was as gloomy as the weather. Not sure why I expected any different really. I guess it’s going to be like that now until we all either lose our jobs or so much time has passed we feel confident we won’t. All I could do was try to make the best of it.
Should I stay or should I go? This has been on my mind a lot since Monday afternoon. I want to stay, more than anything but I’m afraid I may not be able to no matter how much I want it. Right now it’s as if we are all in limbo waiting for something to happen. The waiting is almost worse than what we’re all waiting for…almost. It feels like there is a lot of pressure to do something but I don’t really know what. No one is is pressing me but I feel it all the same.
I spent most of the moring updating my CV. One of the advantages of having a very remote boss I suppose although I have never ever done anything but work before, usually through most of my breaks, before I should have started and after I should have left. This made me feel guilty even though I’ve undoubtedly worked far more unpaid hours in the last six months than I used today. Despite this I did get plenty done. The library catalogue is finally finished, I’ve sent out requests to the entertainers for their 2014 availability (wondering as I did, if I will be there to organise it all), collated and sent out feedback on the last cruise and much more besides.
A rather irritating member of staff was in the office today, someone who’s not normally there when I am. Her loud, grating voice was distracting and it must have shown on my face. My English tutor once told me my face was far too expressive for my own good, obviously nothing has changed. Alice looked over at me and burst out laughing.
“What?” I said.
“Your face is saying exactly what’s going through my mind,” she chuckled. I like Alice. If this all goes pear shaped I will miss her.
At lunchtime I decided to walk into town again. There was a half formed plan to go to Costa and get a latte because I was feeling miserable, grumpy and stressed by the morning and the horrible sense of doom pervading the office. When I stepped outside it was so cold I almost went straight back in but I didn’t. Half way up the road though, I talked myself out of the latte and just went for a short walk along part of the old walls. A small triumph. Memories of my Moonwalk eight miles last week drew me back and made me smile briefly. Those walls have been there for hundreds and hundreds of years, despite floods and storms, snow, frost, sun, wartime bombs, buildings going up and coming down. They’ll be there long after I’m gone and forgotten. Whatever happens those walls will be there, one of my little things to make me smile.
Finally there was a walk through the parks and a visit to the gutsy little rhododendron. There it was, the one tiny flower open, defying the elements, taunting the bitter wind. That is what I have to be like, I thought, flowering despite the winter, smiling despite the uncertainty, whatever life throws at me. Easier thought than done but I took another photo to remind me anyway.
This evening, just as I was getting ready to leave, a phone call was transferred to me. It was a retired BBC broadcaster I remember well with a proposal for the D Day anniversary cruise next year. It all sounded very interesting and he seemed flattered that I remembered him. If this job ends I will miss the variety of my days, the calls like this from people who are household names to me and who turn out to be so pleasant in real life. It feels like I’m disconnecting from it all even before I know what will happen.
Outside there was another fabulous sunset. I took a photo out of the office window but photos of sunsets never come out as good as the real thing for some reason. Maybe I should ask Mini Commando about it, he studied photography. It really was a dark orange ball just hanging there and, as we watched, it slowly sank deeper into the horizon. One more little thing to make me smile then.
Food wise I had another good day, no extra snacks, I didn’t even eat all the ones I’d taken with me. No lattes at lunch time either. The thing is, after what happened the first time I got made redundant, the lump I had in my chest that stopped me eating, the never sitting still, obsessive walking and cleaning, tapping my feet even when I tried to sit still, I’m a little afraid to get too worried about food right now. I can see it could become a problem, either in the not eating and getting sick, or, as happened the second time I got made redundant, the eating too much and putting on weight. I really am trying to stay positive but it’s hard. I’m scared. I’ve finally found a job I like and can do well, a place where I’m happy, and it feels like its all going to disappear in a puff of smoke.
Commando was outside waiting for me in the car when I emerged from the revolving door of the office. The one thing I don’t like about my office is that revolving door, I’m sure it’s got it in for me. He’d taken the night off work as a surprise, probably because he knows I need cheering up. So, apart from my short walk at lunchtime, there was very little exercise today. There wasn’t a lot of eating either so hopefully things will cancel themselves out. I was glad to see him anyway and grateful not to have to walk home in the biting wind even though I did have my new coat.
I usually turn to nature when I have a problem like that. I find a good walk in the woods soothing and healing.
Walking was what kept me going