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I found the idea of playing up stress a bit distateful. I'd rather die standing dignified than squirming around on the floor trying to dodge the executioner's bullet. I think about my life, of where I started and where I've arrived and what options lay before me. I don't come to any firm conclusions.
The next day I am at a work social. We go to a bingo hall - poetic - and then to drinks at a rooftop bar. About 8 drinks in I am sitting with lacrossefu. "Are you alright with everything?" she asks. "You were acting off yesterday". I can't remember what was said exactly after that, but I think she came away with a faint idea of what was going on.
The meeting resumes a week or so later. I sit down and am asked the same questions. I play up the stress angle, possibly too hard, in a way that feels ridiculous with an audience that had been there on try 1. I don't fully remember what I said but I milked it as well as I could, putting all shame to the wind. Once again I was asked to leave the room while they deliberated. It went on for longer this time, or at least it felt that way. Eventually I was called back in.
An appeal was to be made to the results board following an occupational health assessment, performed over the phone, with the appeal review scheduled for late september.
Now this is a slightly strange blogpost in that I have been slowly revisiting it over a fair few weeks. I get extremely little time alone - even now I only have a few minutes. Bingogirl leaves the house after me in the morning and is home before me in the evenings. She shares every weekend with me. The computer’s location means that I can’t do anything on here I don’t want her to see while she’s around, and you can’t blogpost properly on mobile. To make it worse, I have spent much of this period moving house. Packing, unpacking, carrying things back and forth (given the short distance I skimped on a moving van). As a result the narrative is somewhat disjointed, with key events in the story having occurred since I started writing it.
But I had the health call a few days ago. I played it up quite well I think, but it was a tough balancing act. Possibly too good, I don't want to actually be written off as a headcase. I think I also gave her the impression I'm an alcoholic, which isn't true at all. But I think she will back my story up. No idea how likely this appeal is to work out though. One month's notice period so I am guaranteed a job until late October at least. If the appeal is accepted then the resit would be in December, the results in January and the sacking if I fail again sometime in February. Right after we finish our busy season. A good time for it.
I wonder whether I should find a way out regardless. This stage of my life is one of misery and unfulfillment, and that won't change until I am out. I feel very strongly that I should get out while I can, and that the longer I wait the heavier my chains become. I can feel myself getting older, my options narrowing. But equally, I have made bold life-altering decisions in the past that have worked out quite badly for me. Certainly it would be a gamble. But when an animal is cornered sometimes the only thing left is to gamble.