I recall when, late last fall, the unannounced drop-off in work (which, if i understand the scale of the business correctly, was the HR equivalent of closing a large international factory without notice) became apparent. More than a few dark hours, as I sat in the small apartment in Macedonia, mulling the conditions I'd likely have to return to. There had been an earlier scare for a few days when I was in Romania (in my favorite apartment of the journey -- a small concrete room on the top floor of a tower overlooking the city at the top of the hill on a main road) with a possible missed payroll that would have had the same consequence, so these Stoic thoughts weren't entirely out of the blue. One is always a bit aware of the specific shapes and shadows of the rocks far below.
But, even when the worst comes to pass, the doing of it is always more revelatory of possibility than the anticipation. Our existence is inherently originary, except when we try to predict things. Omnis determinatio,,, and all that. Still, though, I was correct to anticipate the storm -- but perhaps the worst of the storm has passed now. One slogs on, somehow. Mainly by doing so. Onward.