Voluntarily Redundant.

This is the latest in a series of posts about a breakdown I suffered in 2010.

The first part of the story can be found here

The pub garden where I spent my summer

As my time at work goes on, I realise I can't just carry on working only two hours a day for the rest of my life. I have to increase my hours, and start doing proper a proper day's work again. This thought terrifies me.

The whole company has been on notice for redundancy since January. It's July now. I could make all this effort to increase my hours back up to full time, and be made redundant any way.

I speak to my boss about it. He tells me that there are around ten people at my level, and only four jobs in the new structure at that level. 

I am tired. I am not enjoying my job any longer. I didn't want to come back, and I don't want to be here now.

I decide to ask if I can take voluntary redundancy. I speak to my boss again. He tells me that under the circumstances, the company may consider allowing me to take my notice period as gardening leave, something most other people have not been allowed. He tells me to leave it with him; he will speak to his boss.

So my boss speaks to his boss, and his boss speaks to HR. One Wednesday morning I am invited to a meeting with the nice lady from HR. She tells me that I can take voluntary redundancy, if I want. I can take my notice period as gardening leave, if I want. I can finish at the end of this week, if I want. I say yes please, and go back to my desk. 

I go and speak to the big boss, to thank him for getting the company to allow me gardening leave. He tells me that it's not a problem, and that I need to concentrate on getting myself well again; he can see that I was not ready to come back to work.

And that is how I came to spend the rest of the summer drunk and sunbathing in a pub garden, reading endless memoirs of depression.

The next part is here

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