The realisation... and boy did it hit hard....

So you're at work.

It's not a normal Friday cause it's a bank holiday Friday and you're all excited cause for the first time in ages you have a date set up with a nice guy.

Something to do tonight - yay - you think as you do all your usual Friday at work stuff.

You eat your normal Friday lunch and have your normal Friday post lunch 2 cigarettes.

But then the boss says he wants to have a quick word. So you think he just wants to give you a raise cause after all you have been busting your ass lately and after all you have been doing the work of ten and getting the wage of one.

And then he says it.

We're making you redundant.

Sorry - you're what now? You're making me what? Who said you could make me anything? I like being a slightly overweight 30something smoker thank you very much. Sorry, what was it you're making me again I wasn't really listening there you see I have a date tonight and seriously I have nothing to wear and do you think I should offer to pay for half the meal? I mean I don't want to come accross as a feminist bitch or anything but then I do want him to see that I'm independant in my own righ..... sorry - you're making me what did you say?

Redundant.

So you have 30 minutes to sort out the office that it's taken you 3 long bloody sweaty tearful years to arrange so that it can all be boxed up and sent to HQ.

You have 30 minutes to tell your colleagues - some of whom have become close friends that you are less worthy than them.

You have 30 minutes to get the fuck out of there because someone in accounts looks at a number and puts tippex through it to save the company a few quid.

Only it's wasn't just a number.

It was me.