I've just been told I've been made REDUNDANT. After 3 years of graft I've been given my pink slip, a few bob in a torn pocket, a path on the back and told, 'all the best' as I was walked out of the board room. It's funny the way it can happen. One day your manager calls you into a room and tells you he wants to talk to you next thing you know it, a day later your getting a jab of a needle in the hole to immunize yourself against typhoid. After quickly debating if I wanted to stay and be loyal to rip-off-ireland for another year I decided: it's time. After a night of tossing and turning in my bed the plethora of questions I kept asking myself about my future kept coming back with the same single answer: it's time. Should I take another job; get a better package, find a girlfriend, settle down, have 3.4 kids: nah, it's time. Time to become who I always knew I was. Time to listen to the song of destiny that had up until now had been gently whispering but never singing. Time to see the world and experience new things. Time to fight for and win control. Time to become the Rambling Irish Vagabond.
But there are more questions, new questions. Questions I have never given time to muse over and contemplate: where shall I go, who will I meet, how can I finance this, When will I come back, ecetra. The questions are hungry and with this blog I might have found food to feed them!
