Christmas Comes But Once a Year

The above might just be true, but in my life there's always something else that crops up at Christmas time too. Yup, with “P” twenty-eight weeks pregnant and everything cooking nicely, I (and along with other work colleagues) got another letter informing us that due to the state of the current economic climate, we were up for redundancy. Again.

Readers of this blog (assuming that there still are some!) may have noticed that this also happened to me last year around this time too. Now, I'm not sure whether this was a deliberate ploy by the management to crap on us from a great height as we prepared for Christmas, but I find it extremely odd that the letter should appear a mere two weeks from Christmas. It's almost as if they're trying to grind the workers down. I just hope the CEO took his children to see the latest Christmas Carol film.

Fortunately, I didn't get the chop, but other friends and colleagues did. But with the boss happily wielding the axe at every opportunity, who says it won't be happening again soon? Whilst there was a certain amount of “clearing the dead wood” going on, the company are now pretty much hacking at the bone.

Naturally, trying to be all legal and above board with the redundancy proceedings, there was a drawn out two week period where we had consultations and points given to us (without being told whether others on the “hit list” had higher or lower points than yourself). I guess the bosses really enjoy this process as it was an extremely stressful time for all and office moral, which was still suffering from last years redundancies, no pay raise or office Christmas party, ensured that the office environment was like a morgue.

However, there is a positive outcome to all of this – but not in the manner the management will probably like. Those people who left had a certain “couldn't care any more” attitude to the proceedings and those who remained, myself included, felt exactly the same. I thought it was just me, but after speaking to other people in the office it became clear that the management have shot themselves in the foot.

You see, hard times or not, 2010 will see an awful lot of my colleagues search for new jobs and start afresh. I can't take much more of the stress myself (it's why I left my previous job in the first place) and over Christmas I'll be dusting down my CV and ensuring my skills are refreshed. You can either be gloomy about such things or treat it as a wake up call and a hint to try things new. After all, I try to take my life on a "glass half full" basis.

So, like the Christmas number one single, 2010 will see myself any my esteemed colleagues Raging Against the Machine. Merry Christmas!!

Trash TV

Oh dear. With the demise of Big Brother next year what is the British public going to do in their search of misfits, weirdoes and Z-list “celebrities” who’d turn up for the opening of an envelope, get drunk and then have the cheek to charge you £200? I’m sure even Hello magazine is panicking over the forthcoming lack of material. Still, I guess Katie Price will keep them in pictures in stories for the next millennium. Worst of all, Channel Four are now going to have to fill their airwaves with “new” programming – so stand by for repeats of Friends and Fraiser.

I could never understand the fuss behind the series and even less so one of my friends. During the first series he actually sat up most of the night watching the extended coverage of the “housemates” sleeping. Obviously watching people snore and break wind is more interesting than getting some sleep of your own. Bonkers.

And let’s not forgot those “famous” housemates. You know, over the past ten years there has been umm, and err, and you know, the one with the thingy. Yea, those Z-list “celebrities” are just that – instantly forgettable and thoroughly encouraged by our dour red top newspapers. But, if you asked any one person to name somebody off Big Brother then I’d guarantee you that they’d all name one person – Jade Goody.

I guess you should never speak ill of the dead, but just what the heck was Jade Goody famous for, apart from being labelled a racist? It’s not as if she was a mathematician (far from it) or the most photogenic of people, but she ended up making exercising videos, having her own perfume, presenting television shows and even writing a book. At one point she was even ranked as the 25th most influential person in the world!! Truly the world has gone mad – even more so when you consider that her lifetime earnings were suggested to be over £2 million pounds.

So rant over, you’ll forgive me if I don’t shed a tear over the cancellation of Big Brother.

The Missing Five Months – Part II

Earlier in the year we all headed across the water to the emerald isle for a wedding. One of P’s friends was, unsurprisingly, getting married and P was the matron of honour. It was quite funny really as I kept on asking her whether she’d written a speech and if she’d be ready to stand up in front of everyone at the reception and thank everyone for coming. P did get a little hot under the collar for a while, but her friend soon assured her that none of that was necessary and all she had to do was witness the signature.

All of P’s other university friends were there too so it was nice seeing her catch up with old friends and being introduced to them – especially as I’d only ever seen them on pictures and heard about exploits that would make the most outgoing of people blush. It was also nice to hear from them that they’d “heard so much about you” – although I’m not really sure whether this is a good or bad thing!

I do like Southern Ireland and find everyone so friendly. Unlike the UK, where every village use to have a Police Station, Post Office, Village Shop and Pub, the villages in Ireland still have them with supermarkets reserved for the larger towns. Every body knows every body else and, even if you’re a stranger, they all seem to know who you’re visiting and where you’re from. Needless to say, if you’ve a secret, it won’t be a secret for too long!

The country side is wonderful too, and once we’d driven into Southern Ireland away from the grotty cities and depressingly run down towns on both sides of the border, the pace of the cities gave way to enchanting landscapes. Where we were staying was a short drive from a deserted beach that could have been lifted from a postcard. Given that we’ve not exactly had the best weather this year, the weather for our trip was perfect and strolling down a sandy beach with only the sound of the waves gently rolling in was bliss.

I’d really like to retire there (assuming there’s anything left in my pension pot that hasn’t either been lost by some reckless banker or stolen by Gordon Brown) but P said she wouldn’t like the isolation and the lack shops. So, although she hates shopping, I think P secretly loves the Trafford Centre and her local Tesco Superstore too much.

The Missing Five Months - Part I

Apologies, apologies and even more apologies.

Gosh is it really five months since I last updated my blog? Blimey, you won’t believe how much has changed in that apparently short period of time – and it’s still all good news without any doom or despondency about my previous lack of love life.

Rounding things up in a nice and short way, P and I are still together and we’re still happily loved up. The biggest, no the hugest, news ever to have to have occurred in my life is that P is currently seven weeks pregnant!

We weren’t really expecting things to happen so soon, especially given that we’re both approaching 40, and we thought we’d be “practicing” for a few more months yet. But when P’s period didn’t materialise on our holiday, I began to suspect that a bun might well be in the oven! As soon as we got back home from holiday P duly performed the embarrassing task of peeing on a stick – twice. And, low and behold, both came out positive.

So, there you have it, I’m to become a Dad. So far, I think I’ve been very calm about things – especially since P is still not showing any symptoms or is there a bump to look at (and rub!). But today P came back from the doctors with a book all about pregnancy and, as I flipped through the pages, it sort of started to hit home of what is ahead. After all, it’s not as if you can hand over a screaming little imp and clear off back home – this little bundle of joy is for keeps!

But, given our relative ages, P and I are naturally concerned about abnormalities such as Downs Syndrome so we’re going to pay for a special scan. Also, given that P suffered from pre-eclampsia in her last pregnancy I made the mistake looking it up on the Internet and terrifying my self in the process. Still, the midwife said they’d be keeping a closer eye on her – and they’re not the only ones!

So, there you have it, you even have an exclusive as not even our respective parents or friends know about the (very small) bump yet and we’re waiting a few more weeks to make sure things are OK before announcing it to the world.

Given my lack of time these days (doing heaven knows what!) I’m going to try and do a bit more blogging over the next few months – after all, I’m going to have a lot to blog about!!

Memories

P is having a bit of a get together this weekend with some of her old girlfriends so I’m surplus to requirements and spending a bit of time by myself. I’m not complaining, I’ve watched plenty of DVDs I’ve had sat around for months and, even though we’re together, we still manage to do our own things every now and again.

However, being alone has reminded me of the events around this time last year with my little furry friend and her eventual passing.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be alone – I’d have the company of my cat who’d always want to be in whatever I was doing, constantly purring and then meowing for attention if I then dared to leave the room.

But this year, I really am by myself and it’s been hard not thinking about her (although why should it not be hard, I never want to stop thinking about her – after all I spent the best part of 50% of my life with her around). It’s just the house feels so empty and, even now, I still find myself turning around to see if she’s sat behind me waiting for a fuss. Although it’s probably all in my mind, I’m sure I can still hear her purring or snoring.

Needless to say, I think it’s probably not a good idea to go and see Marley and Me otherwise I’d be blubbing by the end of the film (not the best image for a bloke).

Clarkson for Prime Minister!

So, what’s all the fuss about? With the country falling apart at the seams, house prices falling, the value of the pound collapsing and unemployment increasing, our grumpy old Labour politicians have managed to put down their expenses forms for a moment and start moaning about Jeremy Clarkson.

In case you’ve not heard, Top Gear presenter Jeremy Clarkson has said he is sorry for calling Gordon Brown a "one-eyed Scottish idiot" to journalists in Australia. He said: "In the heat of the moment I made a remark about the Prime Minister's personal appearance for which, upon reflection, I apologise."

Still, let’s way up the facts shall we?

One-Eyed – this is true, Gordon Brown lost the sight in one eye after an accident playing rugby as a child.

Scottish – this is true, like most of our illustrious cabinet members who are doing such a fine job of right royally shafting us whilst they fatten up their pensions and feed at the money trough, Gordon Brown emanates from Scotland.

Idiot – this is true. The man is such an idiot who, if asked what day it was, he’d reply with some obscure statement that he’d ultimately blame on the Americans. Or Margaret Thatcher. Or the French.

Oh well, that’s enough politics for now.

Still Moving on Up

I’ve still not forgotten my blog, although finding the time to both update my own blog and catch up on the lives of other bloggers, is very hard to do these days. Never the less, after being dropped a line by Miss Meep (Blimey, I've just visited your site and never knew that another mini-meep was on the way!) I decided to make the time to create a new entry and provide a bit of an update.

Home Front

First off, I’m at the point of moving in with P. Yes, I know this was on the cards way back last August (and, rather shamefully, my last blog update), but we’ve both being trying to trim our collections of rubbish to allow me to fit my stuff in P’s house.

It’s a bit of a running joke with her friends, but I really wanted to make sure we had everything we needed before I moved in - and with my lovely fur ball, who I miss so much, no longer with me, now that the furnishings and gadget purchases are pretty much complete, I have little reason to delay things much longer.

And we’re really close to achieving that. I’ve set up the “office” – which is the spare room that was floor to ceiling junk – with a new pine desk, new printer, my wardrobe annexe and, when it’s finally set up, a new super-fast PC.

I’d already bought a lot of new furniture for downstairs (mainly for my TV and hi-fi plus P’s hundreds of handbags!) and with the newly constructed shed there’s now room for my bike (and any surplus junk we can’t find room for or bring ourselves to throw out).

All Loved Up

I’m certainly very content with everything and P is still keen to grab my hand whilst we’re out and the text messages and emails continue to flow. I worry about her driving in the current poor weather and I’m always relieved to receive a text to say she’s home safe and sound. P is also very “happy” that I worry about her too – I guess it shows that I care.

We’re still a family of three, but that may start to change later on this year when we’re planning on trying to increasing the number of people in the house (and no, we’re not getting a lodger in). P has become very broody – especially since her sister has recently had a baby and, credit crunch permitting, this years holiday (somewhere hot and sunny) will be seeing me leave a packet of equipment at home in my wash bag.

Work Stress

Like most people in the UK (and the world for that matter) the credit crunch has had a big affect on our lives. P works for a large European company that provides material to the building trade and their sales have been badly hit. Whilst there’s no signs of any impending redundancies, lots of their customers are going out of business and profits are down. However, given that they are a small outpost in the UK, I’d be surprised if their parent company pulled the plug too prematurely. Still, it’s a stressful time for her – although P was surprised to recently learn that she’d had a pay rise and small bonus.

As for me, whilst my office is still busy, before Christmas the management went into headless chicken mode and made a number of people redundant across various departments. It was a very stressful time, especially since my job role was one of the ones that was up for the chop (Fortunately, although not for the poor guy who got the chop, it wasn’t me that went).

Although I try to keep positive – and I went through a similar experience during the last recession, the stress made me quite ill and I’m still not really over it as I continue to wonder what will happen later on in the year (and possibly the year after that). The office doesn’t feel the same either – it’s much quieter and the banter is a bit on thin side. There’s definitely less “love” towards the management these days and any meeting tends to draw suspicious glances.

Needless to say, my new PC will be used for reskilling purposes as much as surfing the web and listening to MP3s. They always say a recession is a good wake up call and its true. It’s just a pity I was sensible enough not to get myself into debt by buying a house a few ago. But then again, may be I should have been reckless as my mortgage payments would be virtually nothing and both P and I would be on the housing ladder rather than looking enviously around us at those who are.