Kick up the arse

I have just received an almighty kick up the arse.

Yesterday afternoon, my husband received a phone call to say that his role in the company he works for is no longer required. From today, he is on a week's "gardening leave" and next week will go in to work for a consultation as to whether he can fulfil another role, or should take redundancy instead. If he goes for the other role, it will be lesser paid. If he takes redundancy, we don't expect much of a golden handshake, as his employers tend to be cautious about what they pay out. This is all out of the blue. Totally unexpected. My husband even went for lunch with one of the company directors last week, who gave no inkling of an idea of what was happening.

Suddenly, things aren't as secure and comfortable as they were 24 hours ago. Our future is currently uncertain. I don't know what to do, or think.

Before the bombshell struck, the only real thoughts swimming around in my head were:

1. This weight loss and exercise thing is going well. And I feel so happy!

2. We're going to Thailand in 3 weeks!

3. I really should get down to some writing some time.

Now I'm just a bit dazed. The Thailand thing was always a bit more than we could afford. I don't regularly do that kind of trip. I've never been to the East before. This was a one off, a real treat. It seems like madness, but the kids and me are still going - the tickets are paid for, and staying in the UK for summer would achieve nothing. So off we go. In three weeks time. Three weeks from today, in fact.

When I get back, it'll be September, term time starting again, and it could be that my life will be very different. My inner Northerner has been snarling at me for a while to drop the arty-farty pretensions that one day I'll be a writer, get off my arse, and get a proper job. My inner Northerner has a point, and soon the choice might be made for me. It might not even be a bad thing.

When Bishop Brennan got kicked up the arse by Father Ted in what has to be the funniest episode ever of that series, his face was frozen in surprise for about the next three days. That's where I'm at right now. So is my husband. He's still in bed at the moment, and I'm wondering if I should urge him to get up and start looking at job ads, or whether that would be a bit too fascist-like of me. Maybe I'll leave him to do it in his own time. He knows what has to be done. Maybe I should just make him breakfast. Yes, that's a plan.

Keep calm and carry on! That's my motto for today, and for the forseeable future.