....is an oncoming train. Having made my nightly phone call home, it seems that we're getting ever nearer the edge of the precipice. My wife's job has never been all that secure, because she works for a cash-strapped charity, and the project that she runs is funded from the social services budget, a nice soft target for the endless rounds of cuts that our government has decided is the only solution to the national predicament. In a nutshell, and despite my wife's protestations that nothing has been finalised yet, it seems likely that her job will go in June next year. A month or so after I effectively burned my bridges as far as working near home is concerned, that's not exactly the news I wanted to hear. Irrespective of how much I can potentially earn in my new job, there's no way I can get anywhere near to replacing my wife's earnings, so it looks very much like we're going to end up in a worse financial position than before I committed myself to my nomadic lifestyle. Presumably this is what the government means by 'making sacrifices' - uproot your family life to keep paying for the bankers' bonuses, then lose everything anyway. Then just to deliver the coup de grace to my mood, my wife told me that our ailing bed seems to have finally given up the ghost - it's been living on borrowed time for months - so that will entail spending another chunk of money we haven't got. And on that happy note, it's off to bed for me to try and ensure that I'm reasonably compos mentis for work tomorrow morning, when I'm going to be facing the first big assessment in my new job, hopefully to pass me as competent for one of the five areas my workplace covers. The timing could have been better.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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