Oh, Help

Things are reaching critical mass at T's workplace. He may or may not have a job after tonight, depending on whether they are willing to negotiate the new terms they set today...terms that would more than double his in-office hours, require continued work on-call when he is home, no more work at home during regular hours, and weekends in the office (non-negotiable, can't take vacation time that includes weekends) totalling a minimum eighty-hour work week...without a change in salary - not even to make up for the added expense of driving an exceedingly long distance every day instead of twice a week.

These new terms would mean significantly less time at home, no more gallery days for me, and I will have to cancel ALL of my/our plans involving weekends or out of town stays that don't include Bird - which includes telling people who were counting on me to be there for them that I won't be. And then there's all the time he won't have with me (not much of a loss, really - I AM somewhat abrasive, after all) or the Evil Genius.

His boss didn't even have the decency to tell him this in person...just relayed it through another employee.

I have advised T to answer, simply, "not acceptable" and place the ball back in their court. Either they will negotiate or they will fire him...if they negotiate, hurrah, there may be hope...and if they fire him, he collects unemployment until he finds another job. Ultimately, if they fire him, they will have to hire two, probably three people to take his place...and I am hoping they aren't that stupid.

Sigh.

I could cry...but I am, instead, reminding myself that it could be worse. We can't lose our home (long story, but true) or our cars, so we're miles ahead of everyone else facing the chop or making the choice to work horrible hours for little pay because they feel they must. It may suck to be us for a while - no medication, chiropractor, or doctor visits for either of us, (Bird will still be covered through the State) - and we may have to do without phones, TV, and anything extra (except Internet, because I cannot contemplate a future without your loving blue glow, dear Internet), but T is eminently employable and I am not too worried that he'll go long without a job. And I could sell a book, get published, and make millions. Quit laughing, I'm serious.

Still.

I hate the idea of him having to make such a choice. Sigh, again.

I am awaiting his call now, fingers crossed. Meanwhile, I am taking the Evil Genius outside to stomp some puddles and get delightfully muddy while playing in the rain. Priorities, people, priorities.