So… do you recall this post in which I touched briefly on the fact that my employer was planning a string of redundancies? Do you remember how I mentioned that the whole of my team (and therefore my role) was at risk?
Weeeeeeeeeeeell, I have now received the news that I am one of those to lose their jobs.
I am redundant.
Now there’s a phrase!
Not that I need to panic just yet; I still have all of my maternity leave to work through (or be at home for o.O) and then a four month notice period when my leave is over. So, in truth, its going to be something like a year – and a little bit more – before I’ll be without a job.
Its still scary; in a climate where somebody can put out 80 job applications and receive one interview, despite having a first class qualification to do exactly what the advert describes. In a climate where most employers insist not only on previous experience, but previous paid experience (which is the problem for this person close to my heart who has applied for 80 jobs since finishing university over Christmas). Of course I’m concerned…!
But I’m also curiously liberated.
I’m not going to spit bile and venom about my employers. I’m not even going to tell you who they are, but I am going to say that I’ve lost faith in the way they do things and the direction they’re heading, which is a real shame because I’ll be honest and say they did, at first, show plenty of promise. In light of that, I’m not sad that I won’t be working for them. I’m sad that I won’t have a secure income, but that’s something I can fix.
With the news of the twins, I’ll admit that I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to go back at all because I would have had to do so full time. The team I work on is not capable of taking another key-time worker, so I would have been obliged to continue working 9-5 days or find another job anyway. At least this way there’s a tidy severance payout. Its not massive, but it will certainly help when the time comes.
So it was already in my head that I wasn’t necessarily going to stay.
What then, you may ask, was I planning to do with myself?!
What do you think?!
Lol, this blog isn’t here for nothing. My words, as much as I simply love the act of writing them and sharing them, are not without a purpose. They’re a showcase, my portfolio, my literary CV. This blog, excerpts and talk of my plans are not without forward thinking and, at last, a point.
I’m going to write for a living. I’ll finally have the time to do it (!) without a 9-5 job to tackle each day. Yes, I’ll have children and yes, they will absorb a lot of my time, but what is life without a challenge? Certainly not worth the XP, that’s for sure!
I’m going to keep writing fiction and I’m going to start trawling every newspaper, website, leaflet and convention for jobs that require freelance writers. I’m going to start right now, getting an idea of what I can and can’t do, what pays, what doesn’t, and if its even feasible to consider doing this at all. I can’t act on most of it until my leave period is over – otherwise I’ll lose the small amount of SMP I do get – though if I find things work out the way I want them to, I may even be better off doing that!
I’m under no illusions as to how difficult this is going to be or how slow it might be to take off. But I will say that I have support from ground zero in the form of Dave and my mum cheering me on. Even my dad seemed impressed at my stance on things, as well as my circle of friends. If the worst comes to it, I can find part time work to tide me over and offer my services to schools and clubs. I’m CRB checked (though that may have run out by then) and there’s nothing to stop me asking local schools if they would benefit from an after school writing club. It would be good for me AND help the next generation of budding writings get the support they need from someone who is interested. I wish I had had an opportunity like that when I was younger.
So… the beginning of the rest of my life? In more ways that one and I’ve never been more excited! There is so much out there for me to do and see and try and learn. Redundancy may, bizarrely, turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to me… bar motherhood, of course! 
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