“Surplus to requirements, unnecessary or superfluous”
It’s hard not to take it personally, even though it’s affecting most people in the organisation. You want to stand on your desk and say “Well excuse me but I am totally necessary, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that I add quite the spark to a dinner party.”
At the moment everything is up in the air. They’re asking for voluntary redundancies and in a few weeks we’ll start to know more.
It’s a strange atmosphere. Everyone on edge. Everyone knows what’s going on but doesn’t really want to bring it up. It’s all head’s down, let’s get on with things, let’s not talk about it until we know more.
It’s hard not to feel paranoid that people are looking at you and wondering “Well what does she do – surely she’s not important, we could get rid of her and save us some money.” But come on, you know you’d do it too, I know I am. Going through a list of people and saying “Well we could get rid of them for a start.” It’s an unpleasant side to my character that has emerged but I guess it’s a fight or flight response. As happy and go-lucky as I am, if I’m in a situation where I have to prove my worth over someone-else’s the gloves will come off.
I can feel myself starting to mentally prepare some kind of statement to detail how awesome I am and what an asset I am to the organisation –the equivalent of practicing my song for the sing-off in X-Factor, hoping that Gary Barlow is going to tell me it was the performance of the night and put me through to the next round.
But when you’ve already been told you’re a luxury it’s hard to keep your self-esteem boosted and stay positive.
I feel like a Lush bath bomb sat next to some Asda Value bubble bath. I want to say “But just try me, I smell gorgeous and I’ll make your skin feel all soft and if you’re lucky I might just cover you in glitter.”
But when push comes to shove and you just want to have a tiny little treat, you’ll go for a bit of cheapo bubbly rather than the luxury item which is only going to coat the bottom of your bath and make you break your neck the next time you step into the tub.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and prepare my song. I’m going to go for Journey’s, “Don’t Stop Believin’” – bet I’ll knock Louis Walsh’s socks off.