Crikey, what a day? It all started painlessly enough. Renewed the house contents insurance with the nice company in Ramsgate, walked to the ‘old’ town and spent an hour or so tramping the back streets around Dane Gardens, the park, Trinity Gardens , the harbour and around the Turner. Pleasant, deserted on a blustery autumnal day, the wind energetically whooshing in from the southwest, lively but leaving the sea undisturbed close to the shore.
Return home and log in to the company email page, not much going on but a reminder for all UK employees to attend a ‘Town Hall’ meeting either in person at the London office or via Skype. That looked ominous, a portent to bad news. Things haven’t been going that well for some time, that’s been the suspicion anyway. When management make open forum pleas for anyone in the workforce to come up with ideas as to how to improve business on a regular basis, you kind of guess that all is not as it should be.
So cometh the hour cometh the online attendee.
The EVP makes the case, no bones about it. Dire, wages cut, allowances slashed, noses to the grindstone, cut costs, earn more, chase debtors, get down and pray. Hmmm, so be it. Not new for a lot of us oldies, we’ve been through it before over the years. Fortunately coming through it OK. But as they say, past performance isn’t a guarantee of future performance. Indeed it isn’t.
Work woes aside, the allatsea Westbrook office has been trawling the news-feeds looking for positive and happy things to lift the mood a tadge. Having a bit of trouble though to be honest.
Seems the UK’s electrical generating capacity is just about at full capacity already and winter hasn’t made its debut yet, certainly not in the sunny (but windy) sarffeast. No redundancy in the system what so ever apparently, bring on the blackouts….deep joy indeed. Then there’s the 30% cut to ministerial departments on the way, god help the vulnerable and the needy. The NHS is on the brink of shut down with the entire staff of junior doctors, fed up with shite pay and shit hours (although to be fair, a lot of us do work shitty hours, in allatsea’s case, all his working life) talking of all out strike action. All our diesel cars which we bought at the behest of the government’s encouragement are now deemed death spewing toxic devil machines and to boot, the Earth has warmed up a whole degree in the last 100 years and East Anglia will be under water by this time next Tuesday. Non stop doom and gloom it is and this means only one thing in this house……..
Open the fridge and fetch out a bottle of cooled crisp white wine, collect a pint glass from the cupboard by the cooker. Take both to the dining room and extract a bottle of gin from the spirit locker. Add gin to wine in a large mixing jug, stir with fingers or nearby pen, fill pint glass with this industrial portion of dry martini type bevvyblend and tip down one’s fwoat!!
Sad but nearly true.