Jobbiness

Thankfuckly the planned three days of scary split-shifts were aborted (for reasons outwith my control) before I reached the Ativan category. Just 36 hrs of this jobbiness had mental meltdown rapidly approaching, with the 13 hrs/day turning out to be more like 18hrs/day. Now I've slept, my rational mindset is to make as my management priority to manage to prevent such scheduling happening ever again.

John Humphries, Eddie Mair and Ed Stourton of Radio 4 relay the redundancy count and unemployment figures daily, hammering home that it's a bad time to be making waves in a private sector job. I've flirted with an eminently-suitable, well-paid jobby opportunity in the public sector, but based in the Midlands. But my ambivalence is exemplified by a complete inability to complete the application form, using a million excuses, for over 2 months. Truth is I can't face losing treasured time with kiddos through relocation, even though they'll be grown and living independently soon enough anyway, at least if I'm a successful parent. But in the short-term I can't face their tears from my selfish opportunism, and selfishly I want to have every available minute with them while they're still kiddos.

You're soon enough dead, no one wishes on their deathbed they'd worked harder, and there's no pockets in shrouds.