I committed to post daily in this blog and – for some reason – decided to tie it in with my photo-a-day July challenge…. But I’m struggling because today I want to write about something completely unrelated to the ‘Best part of my day’ which is today’s theme.

And… scarier still I’m writing about my work. About real stuff… not glib crap about falling over drunk, TV shows and the like. I never write about my workplace or working life to any extent because I like the boundary I’ve drawn; and because when I talk to work people about my blogging I tell them I don’t write about work. And this post isn’t, but it is. About work, I mean.

Bad news. How do you prefer to hear it? Like the proverbial bandaid being ripped off, or do you prefer to stick your fingers in your ears and hope it will go away.

I’m a control freak and worrier. So I’m at a point when I’m trying to decide how I like my bad news delivered.

We’ve recently had a new government elected in my State. This post isn’t going to be about politics or even the decisions the government is making – I’m not crossing THAT particular boundary. However, the new government is introducing a range of cost-cutting measures, including the retrenchment of (what is rumoured to be) 20,000 public servants. And I may well be one of them.

I own a position in Agency X, but have been in a temporary position elsewhere for almost 18 months and am not due to return to X until February 2013. But… since I’ve left there have been significant changes and many of the people I once worked with have gone anyway. The most recent change is in line with the cost-cutting and I’ve just received advice that my old work area is no longer a priority for the government. Reportedly some senior staff left at very short notice last week, including the person heading up my section. Which no longer exists. The job I own is (was) with this particular person, so I’m unsure of what it means for me.

Apparently there will be some offers made: voluntary redundancy, opportunities to transfer (though jobs are being culled, so these are minimal), jobs at lower levels…  however, if you can’t find/don’t accept something, you will be retrenched. There are apparently also incentives to help you make a quick decision, the incentives themselves reducing as days pass up to a period of a fortnight.

So, here’s my dilemma. I’m not sure anyone in my old work area even remembers that I’m here. No, that’s not true. I’m sure they do, but I’m unsure I want to remind them. At the moment I’m only hearing things informally through former staff and I’m pondering on my options and the pros and cons of each. Sure my position no longer exists but will they expect me to move elsewhere and will I get a say in that? It’s already happened once in that particular agency, which is one of the reasons I applied for this temporary opportunity.

It’s somewhat distracting I have to say. I enjoy the agency I’m temporarily with, but frankly if I was offered a package from my permanent employer I’d have to take it or I’d be left with nothing when my contract here finishes.

It’s scary and it isn’t. In fact, though it’s playing on my mind, I must confess the notion of such a life-changing moment is incredibly freeing. Of course I may not say that months down the track when I have no job and cannot pay my mortgage! But, at the moment, I’m not overly angsty about what may be before me. I might worry because I’m single and have no one to help with my mortgage, but I also don’t have kids and have a bit of equity in my apartment if I had to sell it.

So, there you have it. It seemed wrong to write about how much I love lying in bed in the cold wintery mornings (ie. my fave moment of the day) when there’s other stuff happening in my life.

Like I said, I’m reticent to reach out and ask the big questions… so wonder if I am just delaying the inevitable bad news? Or perhaps I’m hoping to fly under the radar? Or maybe I’m scared about what comes next? Or possibly I’m worried the whole thing will be a big anticlimax and I won’t be forced into life-changing decisions. I’m just not sure.

How are you with bad news? Do you rip that bloody bandaid off, or edge it off slowly?