December 15th 10 am.
No I'm not. Well, not yet anyway.
The meeting yesterday wasn't quite that bad. After I got the tears out of the way and finished blowing into a brown paper bag, I walked across with my envelope to the desk.
Five years of my life were in that piece of paper.
Sitting at my desk it was clear that a thousand eyes were on me. Bad idea. I went instead to the corner stall in the refuge for the weary. The Sanctum Sanctorum called 'Gents'.
It was a bit of a comfort area for me. On particularly tiring days (basically Mondays through Thursday, unless it was a busy Friday) I used to choose that stall to take my afternoon nap. I read somewhere that it would increase my lifespan by 5 years. Crap. That meant 5 more years of unfunded retirement.
So I sat there, slit open the envelope and read a bunch of platitudes, a number that would pay my mobile bill for a couple months and an access to a counsellor should I need one.
I wonder if the counsellor fees could be monetised ? One to ask. I made a mental note.
So what was I going to do when the money ran out ?
My plan of action was very clear.
I had to stop this flirtation with longevity.
No more afternoon naps. Take up smoking and bacon.