Trays in upright position

Late again -- I was polishing up a book proposal.
Curious day at work. Unofficial word was that our boss would announce our departures today. But yesterday, a key copy editor turned in his Form. His departure and mine combined would decimate the desk, leaving one temporary fulltime copy editor and two part-time editors to put out 10 -- make that 9, as of Oct. 5 -- features sections. So the announcement was delayed. Methinks that someone upstairs is rethinking that clause that says your voluntary separation may not be accepted.
The copy editor's thinking was this: We have to meet a number. And he is planning to leave in six months. So rather than someone losing his/her job when we come to involuntary separations next week, he opted to check that box. He couldn't watch someone go reluctantly when he is planning to leave anyway. And also, he could use the time to prepare himself for his next step, a venture into a whole new career, which will require a graduate degree.
This makes for some edginess on my part. Did I say I'm ready to go? I'm ready to go. I've already started leveling the dirt and have bags of gravel ready to pour (sorry -- neighbor down the street is putting in a driveway & it was the handiest metaphor).
It makes for some queasiness. That whole dreading tomorrow thing.
Oh, and on the gravel-laying front: In addition to polishing up the book proposal, which I will send out tomorrow, I made contact with the coordinator of a cancer program about the possibility of setting up a volunteer program. I find that if a body is feeling low, nothing helps more than helping someone else -- especially someone fighting not to work, but to live. Yanks everything into perspective.

D-Day, Take 1

This was the voluntary-separation D-Day. It was remarkably low-key until late in the day -- though I can't vouch for that because I had to leave early, fatigued out of my mind. I wasn't seeing little crawly things, but I was quite spinny in the head. So I did the things that are specific to my job, then headed home and crashed for three hours.
When I awoke, Joe told me that an entire division had been laid off. An interactive media division. That makes no sense. That is supposed to be the future of newspapers. Of course, what they do is not compatible with our newspaper's software, so we personally don't use them. But surely someone somewhere uses them.
I will have to hunt down some internal correspondence to try to make sense of that. I'll let you know when I know.
Also, I talked with my son. He was good and smart and understood that if I didn't volunteer for the buyout I might not get another chance to leave with some sort of severance package. In fact, I went in to talk with my boss today about a review that will come in after I'm gone. She got a faraway look in her eyes, then said, "Let's go down to HR. You provide a distaction, then I'll grab your form and we'll pretend it never happened."
That's nice. Really. It's good to be needed. But it's a desperate sort of need. I'm looking forward to moving into the future, a creative future. This is my best chance at it right now. I don't think they'd pick me for an involuntary separation. And I would have more work until the end comes.
I will say that my son looked longingly toward our bikes. He wants a new, expensive bike. That will have to wait. And it will all work out.
I am up late again. I'm looking forward to working on the future in daylight hours. When my after-hours work becomes my actual work. Rather than dreading the next day -- which is what I'm doing at this very moment, not sure what the morning or afternoon will bring, what bad news, what new change, what new tightening until the newspaper simply evaporates. I will look forward to the next day's work. I am more than ready.