When Human Remains get involved in the shenanigans at the School for Naughty Children, it becomes obvious that changes are to take place. And not just any changes, oh no. These must be Big Changes, otherwise my boss would just get on and make them regardless. She’s not one for listening to anything the county council have to say, usually.
She wants rid. The nasty R word. Nastier than rid.
The teaching staff are safe [in fact, the teaching staff are so safe that she’s been able to employ two new teachers, starting in September.] Nearly all the administration staff are safe. Which just leaves me, and the other five Teaching Assistants. Between us we are three full-time and three part-time. She needs to whittle it down to the equivalent of two full-time.
She needs to save some money. She stressed that it isn’t happening for financial reasons, but the fact that she needs to stress that it isn’t just proves that it is.
My head is in a bit of a muddle today.
The arrogant, egotistical, big-headed part of my brain
knows thinks that I’m safe. Whether it be full-time or part-time as a jobshare, I know think that one of the two positions is mine if I want it. I know, my arrogance is horrifying. Ms Hippy thinks I have nothing to worry about, Bubbly thinks the new job description and person specification was written with me in mind, and even Dotty and Old-Hat have admitted they will be surprised if I don’t get it [if I express an interest in it, obviously.]
[aside: if i do express an interest and then don’t get it, please feel free to laugh at my expense – i will deserve it]
Apparently my boss has even told Ms Hippy to tell me that the essential bit about having the ability to travel shouldn’t put me off expressing an interest. Ms Hippy told her to tell me herself, but then told me anyway, and we laughed because Ms Hippy thinks that my boss is scared of me. Ha.
I told Ms Hippy that I thought the wording had probably been with me in mind, as a non-driver. That’s arrogance for you.
But, there’s a part of me that feels sick to the stomach, and panicky. I work with some amazing people and I’m proud to call them my fellow TAs. We’ve laughed together, grumbled together and even cried together. We regularly put the world to rights, and we’re very supportive and protective of each other. I love [most of] them to pieces. The threat of redundancy creates an air of paranoia and mistrust. It shouldn’t do that. I have Guilt sitting on my shoulder telling me that I don’t have children and that my husband earns good money. Pity bops me on the head [lovingly] and suggests that I just leave because I can’t bear to see anybody else upset and worried. And Fidget stumbles by to take me by the hand, and guide me along the long and dangerous road of Maybe It’s Time To Move On.
I would say that I don’t know what to do, that I’m lost and confused. But this would be a fib. I know what I want, and I
know think I can get it. I just don’t want to see other people get hurt in the process, and I worry that Pity and Guilt will cause me to do or say things that I don’t really want or mean …
Why is grow’d up life so bloody difficult? And why am I so cock-sure of myself right now when usually I’m the first one to belittle myself? Is it survival instinct? I don’t really like it, whatever it is …
please God make everything hunky-dory xxx Elsabeth