This one definitely earns the "things that suck" blog-search keyword.
I learned last week that it's highly likely (as in, almost certain) I'll be without a job by the end of the year. I make it a policy to keep my employer out of my blog (because, ironically enough, I didn't want to get fired), but If you watch the news, you can probably figure out where I work and/or worked. If you deduce it, I'd ask that you not mention it in the comments section -- even though they can't downsize me any more than they already intend to, I still have some things left to lose before I take the walk of shame with my stuff in a box.
I'm not whining, and I'm not desperate (yet) -- I did some good work, got some good experience, and at least I have some amorphous amount of time before the axe actually comes down. But the whole thing just leaves me kind of deflated.
Being me, my immediate reaction was to go for a ride, which was a good call. I swear, the sound of my good bike on smooth pavement at 18-20 mph would make an amazing white noise machine. That hum triggers the happy place in some reptilian corner of my brain, even when the higher functions are in four-alarm freakout.
So, dear readers, if you just happen to know someone who needs a freelance sentence-assembler (preferably in the bike industry, as that would pretty much be my dream gig), you know where to find me.
Now that I've had my vent, I'll keep the buzzkill off the blog, promise.