Friday 14 March 2008: Was promptly told my temp contract was terminated and I must collect my belongings, hand in my pass and be escorted off the premises.

Friday 13 March 2009: Will be told to collect my belongings, hand in my pass, locker key and time card and be escorted off the premises. Company policy. Nothing personal.

Yeah, I'm going to lose my job again, the only difference between this year and last is that I'm not being dismissed, but being made redundant. Oh, and I got a week's notice ahead of time, instead of the very afternoon I'm supposed to leave an empty desk behind me.

I'm not surprised to be honest. There have been tell-tale signs of big changes for ages and let's not forget the current financial climate. America's unemployment rates have soared to a 25-year high, and redundancies levels in the UK have shot up over 148,000 over the last three months, the highest figure since the National Statistics records began in 1997. There are already worrying predictions about Easter, as UK companies trim themselves down as the new fiscal (financial) year begins in April. Blah, blah, blah...

I'm thankful for the fact I've survived the turnover as long as I have done; it just so happens that during my very last week of work, several teams from the floor above are moving down to where I used to sit (I've worked on two different teams the past almost-year); the whole building is getting squeezed to save money it seems. The lugubrious feelings will probably sink in sooner than expected, but at the moment, I'm just accepting everything for what it is. I liked this job and the people in it much better than the one I had this time last year.

Needless to say, it's going to be much harder finding a new job this time around, but we'll see what happens. At least after next Friday (which just happens to be Friday 13th -- ARGH -- and Comic Relief -- a UK-only BBC children's charity pledge drive; I'm not against the charity, I just don't care to see anything stupid like comedian Billy Connolly run round Trafalgar Square naked again, which ruined my grandmother's view of British television when we video-recorded it for her years back) I'll get more time to develop my artwork whilst I'm on the dole.

Oh well. Although I absolutely hate the song, "Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be..." seems rather appropriate right now. The world may be going to hell but there's no point just moaning about it and not really do anything else, donchaknow.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who's put up with my constant work-related moaning and whining and everything the past couple of months. You know who you are! I've had my head bitten off (rightly so on a many an occasion) and stuff, and although at the time I may bat it off and put on my melancholic mask, it's all good character building in the long run. I guess I've never appreciated all that until now, when the midden really hits the windmill.

And now I'll shut up with the self-pity. There are bigger things to worry and be wowed by, donchaknow?

Bad Kami.