Hello, my darlings. We are well into the witching hour and I am sorely vexed. As you may have noticed, this country is in a financial pickle. Oh, dear. Where are my manners. I forgot to invite you all in. Well, come on in before the neighbors get an eyeful. How about some tea on this blustry April night? Are we all settled? Ok then, here it goes. Today I heard that it is official. We are not in a recession. This is a bona fide depression! And I can believe that whole heartedly. I have a local government job. We just had this big meeting with the powers that be in our department and division, with HR, the union, and an assistant grand muckie-muck. It was to be an update to a meeting about a month ago. The bottom line is: there will be lay-offs. Quite a lot, unless people can transfer to other positions within this entity. Of course, it goes by seniority, so when the money on the general fund gets tight, who will be the first to go? The ones that just transfered in from our division because they will have the least seniority where they are at. I do feel bad for my boss and for the big boss, though. This can't be any fun for them. I'm sure a lot of people are angry with them personally, but this slow down isn't their fault. It is what it is. What has me so vexed is that these people (and possibly yours truly) have worked hard and been loyal employees. These hard-working, loyal employees are about to be unceremoniously dumped out into the "real world". I imagine for some it will be a bit like being a former inmate that was serving a life sentence with the possibility of parole. They get paroled and don't know how to make it on the outside. I hope not, but you never know. It's just a great big ugly catch-22. Damned if you do and damned if you don't. There is no satisfactory way to resolve this situation. Well, I think I've finally run out of steam. Gotta put the clothes in the dryer and then off to the wood pile to cut my nightly quota. Good night, my cherubs. I know there will be a light at the end of this tunnel, too. I just hope it's not a freight train. Oh, well. Sweet depression-less dreams. Viscount Babbles On