Yeah. What a load of bullshit.
I'm now officially without a job. I assumed that pregnant women in this country had more rights than other people, but I guess I was wrong. I was given my maternity pay (which is pretty dismal) and ushered out the door. No redundancy pay. Not a cent. Synovate, the company I worked for, has a notoriously bad reputation for not only being tightwads, but treating their employees like robots (a statistic that I only just found out from people that have worked there for years).
For you folks across the pond, redundancy is a nice way of saying "getting fired". Although, they tend to do it a bit gentler over here, and give you some time to adjust before you're booted out the door. Plus, if you're made redundant, they can never hire a person that does that same job that you do in that company. So in many ways, you're a bit more protected that you are in the US. Usually.
In my situation, my boss was relocating to the US, and my job was becoming erased. And instead of having me stay on to do project work, they basically told me to either start my maternity 2 months' early (yeah, so that would mean not having those 2 months with my baby at the end of my maternity leave), or get out. After trying to negotiate with them for a few weeks, I saw that they really didn't give a rat's ass about my situation, so I decided to leave. It was so emotionally draining, I just gave up the fight.
On my last day, my spineless boss didn't even say goodbye, or thank me for working 10-hour days for him for almost a year. Yeah, try to figure that one out. Well, I say that's just bad karma for him, really. More importantly, I left with dignity, and without setting anything on fire or breaking something (though I was tempted). The girls next to my office gave me a bouquet and a card, which was really unexpected and sweet, so it reminds me that there are decent people in the world. When I got home, the mister surprised me with a DVD of "Office Space" (which for any of you who haven't seen it, is the perfect therapy if you ever get really jaded about work).
Anyway, that's the story. I think it's only now sinking in slowly that I'm on the precipice of motherhood, and I think that's another reason why I wanted to work as long as possible. It kind of delays the inevitable. Everyone keeps asking me "why? what are you afraid of? why delay it?" I can't explain it, and can only say that you'd have to be pregnant to understand. You want more time. More time to fit things in. And one of the things I like to do is work. I like the creativity of the industry I work in. I like the challenges. The dramas. I also like contributing to our household income, and that will never change. Even though everything we have is pooled together, I sometimes feel guilty that the mister is the one working his ass off for us. It's totally my own manufactured guilt, but that's just how I am. I want to roll my sleeves up and get in the mud with him, no matter what we do. But I'm having to tell myself that motherhood is just that- a huge job that requires loads of teamwork- so essentially, my job is just around the corner, in a way.
My focus now, other than getting freelance work in the pipeline for the next month, is to organise. Plan. Take some time to relax.
I'm still managing to get into town to do errands, getting last minute things, etc.. but my threshold is significantly lower. Dealing with pushy crowds and hot trains is not fun, but I manage about 4-5 hours before I'm done for the day. Luckily, my legs aren't swollen and I feel fine, but it's my body that starts slowing down and telling me "hey. lady. you don't have a limo driver to pick you up, so I suggest you make a beeline for that bus over there and go home".
Little things are becoming harder, but I'm managing to battle on. I can still shave my legs (thank god), I'm still managing to paint my toenails, I'm still managing to put together cute outfits that don't require a maternity tent-like thing. I even managed to go to that photo shoot.
Yeah, the photo shoot. In my last post, I told you that I was selected for an exhibit for this photographer named Rankin. I showed up in a really plain black top, no jewellery, and my wedding hat (as some added drama for fun). I was put into hair and makeup straight away, which scared me at first. These girls didn't look a day over 20 and when I told them the look I was going for (smudgy black eyes, busted rock-chic), they said "yeah. cool.", and dove in. The next thing I saw in the mirror was unrecognisable. My face looked caked in foundation, my cheekbones looked razor-sharp, my eyes were caked in black/grey/copper glitter. My hair was down and messy under my hat. The poor girls saw my terrified face and said "trust me, it'll look amazing on camera".
And they were right.
The photographers put me in front of a wind machine (no, I'm not kidding), and went to work. They took about 50 frames each of full-length and head-only shots. And as the shoot was going on, the pictures that they were taking were being shown on a huge screen in the public gallery.
Once the shoot was over, I was given a free 8x10 print then and there of the shot of my choice (also the shot that will be displayed on the public gallery wall), and I'll get the rest of the shots from that session on email, if I want any others blown up.
Can I be totally vain and say something really annoying?
That. Was. Amazing.
It was such an incredible experience, and I have never felt more beautiful in my entire life (well, except on my wedding day). But it was a weird and different kind of beauty, though, if I can try and justify it. It was glossy, magazine-print beauty. It was surreal and intense. It made me feel really vain as well, which was dangerous. The experience was also foreign to me in a lot of ways. I saw a look on my face that was new to me. Even the mister saw it and said "Wow. It's stunning, and definitely not a part of you that I recognise, which is really interesting."
I've always wanted to see what all that stuff is like, and I was able to get a small taste, which is really lucky. And I picked a full-length shot, which means our little one gets to see itself in that moment as well.*
And in a very big way, I liked that that moment made me feel good, because it was a few days after I lost my job. I managed to turn a situation that was personal for me in a bad way to a really great personal experience.
Myshka- 1
Synovate- 0
*once I get it emailed to me, I promise to post it.
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