With the benefit of hindsight, I understand now why Fairfax cut our milk rations before they announced job cuts.

They want our bones all soft and breaky so we don't have the strength to fight back.

Fairfax, who owns The Press and other newspapers here and in Australia, plans to cut 550 jobs.

It seems callous but I'm sure they've been trying to save us.

Earlier this year we had a right big cutback on milk delivery. There were notes on our fridge explaining that milk was for tea and coffee only, not for drinking pure, nor for splashing all over breakfast cereal. If it sounds a little bit like one of those uncomfortable flatting situations, then that's because it was.

Then winter broke and we started getting little emails telling us the power bill was excessive. Of course, this was under the guise of saving the environment but again, it was like the anal flatmate discovering a fan heater in your bedroom.

Some time after the power-saving drive, we got a little reminder about the phone policy, which apparently means not phoning Grandma during the day.

Angry Australian staff banded to vote a motion of no confidence in the Fairfax regime but I think we at The Press have been weakened. By the time we got the news that our jobs might be gone, our bones were too soft, our bodies too cold and our psyches too cut off from our lovely grandmothers to fight back.

The announcement came from David Kirk, once a revered All Black who captained the team during our one Rugby World Cup win. I remember 1987, when he held the cup high above his head, now I wonder if it was filled with milk. Anyway, he has moved on and become an all-round corporate guy and big daddy of Fairfax.

He excused the butchering by sending an electronic announcement about job cuts using words like "growth and development" which are difficult to swallow when the only growth or development a job loss might give me is another dirty great coldsore from stress.

It's this corporate speak that really grates. I'm betting they sat at an oval table and blue-skied their ideas for a while before deciding the best practices to move forward and action the plan. If they'd really stir-fried enough ideas in the strategy wok, they could have cooked up more ways to cut costs and weaken our spirits before taking the jobs.

I am waiting to see printed instruction pamphlets describing how many tabs of toilet paper we can use for each sitting, depending on the type of business being done. Or they could cut out the free loo paper altogether and we could simply use newspapers.

Maybe this is the readers' fault? Next time you're stuck for a gift idea, ditch the CD voucher and consider buying someone 30 copies of The Press instead.

Or perhaps we should be making funky things out of paper mache and selling them? Or will the redundant ones be using Mainlander to sleep under come Christmas?

Maybe we've all been fools. Have you heard of nominative determination? Our CEO's surname is Withers.