D-Day is this week. One thinks one should come out alright - credibility, track record, experience, network, etc, etc. Then one talks to a member of the senior management - "it will be brutal and oh some positions are likely to be protected" which translates of course to there will actually be fewer opportunities for the rest of you mediocres who must compete mightily for the rest. And the doubt creeps in. What if, what if, what if... How does one knows not to include the "protected openings" and not jeopardise the 5 and only 5 chances one is given? Despondency starts dampening the spirit. One dreams of what could never be. The ad plays like a broken record in the mind - see what a buck can do for you. Logic and reasoning have not quite fled and one instinctively knows the odds are well nigh impossible. But as long as breath still flows, the flicker of hope is never far off. That is what keeps the species alive.
How does one sells oneself to all the powers that will collectively determine who stays to put bread on the table another day and who walks? Plan, woman, plan. Did you not coach your own team?
I dread that I will handed a message that says, "you are Not Yet Selected". Oh, the loss of face and the sadness that will render my soul apart. I cannot be without a job. How will we live?
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