Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 2.0
Wednesday, May 6, 2009 at 9:51AM 
The meeting request came at 7:25 for a face to face session at 8:30. I was at the gym being punished by my personal trainer, Silent Evil, so was blissfully unaware of the shitstorm brewing. When I got home I saw the invite, contacted my boss, and the meeting was rescheduled for later in the afternoon. I suspected, but I didn't quite get it.
All through the day the instant messages and emails were flying. Jokes in the office like "How you doing?" answered with "Well, I'm still here." I kept my head down and worked like crazy. I still didn't get it.
I went to the meeting room for the 3pm session. It was an office, far away from where my colleagues sit. Hmmm, I thought, why aren't my boss and I just meeting in his office? I might have been starting to get it.
And then, the meeting itself. The HR Drone was there. Ah, now I get it.
My poor, sweet boss practically read from a script, talking about economic conditions and streamlining. I didn't question him on anything - it clearly wasn't a very fun moment for him.
The HR Drone - who I had clashed with in the past - warning to all, never piss off HR - said there was a pack of information for me and I could take it home and ask questions later, or he could go through it. Fuck you, I thought, I'm not making this easy for you. "Let's go through it," I said, and prided myself on making as much eye contact with him as possible as he listed the various information. He broke eye contact a bunch of times - each moment he had to look away was a small, petty triumph for me.
Denial stage: Trying to avoid the inevitable.
As HR Drone came to the end of his schpiel, he said that, of course, if I have any questions I can save them for later when I've had time to digest it all, and I can call him at any time, and gave me his card. Nice try on steering me to let you off easy, I thought. You damn fecking right I have questions.
"I'd like to know," I said, "about the wider context of this decision. My question is - Why me?"
HR Drone opened his mouth to spout some scripted BS but I cut him off.
"I actually want [My boss] to answer that," I said.
My boss explained that, with the pending department reorganization, they had mapped out the new requirements, looked at the skills available and found that there were duplicates.
Color me crazy, but I do believe this, to some degree. The company has a lot of reorgnizations and my upper management must have considered everyone they have accross the globe. And the skills track that I have been on - Six Sigma and Project Management - is a combination of (a) a skillset that hasn't really found a lot of buy-in in the organization and (b) a skillset where there are a lot of people more qualified and experienced at it than me. So I guess it makes sense, really.
Anger stage: Frustrated outpouring of bottled-up emotion.
I didn't really get angry in the meeting. But I know that the 7 stages aren't linear and I sure as hell am feeling some of that today.
They said on the news that just over 1,000 people got canned in my neck of the woods. Considering the number of employees of my firm in this area, that's only 4%. How the hell did I end up being one of the 4% that is considered Surplus to Requirements? I should be in the top 4% of performers, Goddammit!
First, anger turned inward on myself.
Should I have worked harder, longer hours? Did I get sucked into the corporate BS that told us we should "collaborate" by sharing the credit for a project with a colleague instead of just taking it over and making it my own? Should I not have worn amusing T-shirts, made sure I had makeup on every day? Should I have searched high and wide for a meaningful project and then muscled my way onto it? Should I not have emailed an question to the CIO? Should I have not taken work time to go for medical appointments?
Second, anger directed at other people.
Is there anyone else in my group that got canned too? Or is it just me? I mean - come on! - there are some people that are not as good at their jobs as I am. Did I seriously get shafted and not them?What about all the people who stiffed me? What about the guy who bitched in a meeting in front of my boss and all my colleagues that I had contacted one of his stakeholders, when my boss had told me to? What about the guy that blamed me for doing a project that had some work in it that overlapped with his, because he believed that his team owned this area, and my boss believed we owned that area, and they just weren't talking to each other? What about that HR Drone I once shat on by email because he chastised me and cc'd my boss? What about the guy who just didn't do what he was asked to do and, when I asked my boss for help handling him, I was told that I should learn to improve my impact and influence over others?
So now I'm thinking, will I really miss these people?
No, but they were in the minority. There were some really cool colleagues there.
But, sadly, the minority is often the most vocal. Did their voices stack against me, blacken my dance card? Can I blame them for this?
Bargaining stage: Seeking in vain for a way out.
Bargain attempt 1: I was told that my network access was going to be cut off later that day. I asked how I could look for other internal jobs when I had no network access. Sorry, HR Drone told me, usually people are given time to do that but, because of the large cuts today and the fact that there really are no open positions, network access is being cut off this time.
Bargain attempt 2: I asked whether, in the new organization that was being planned, there were any posts that weren't filled. There were none, HR Drone said very firmly, and there was no headcount available in the entire extended department.
Depression stage: Final realization of the inevitable.
I actually got a bit pissed off at myself. After holding eye contact with HR Drone throughout his scripted monologue about the GetTheFeckOut Information Packet, I suddenly started to tear up. I really didn't want to cry.
But then I thought, What the hell. Men hate it when women cry so I shouldn't try to disguise it too much. Let them feel uncomfortable.
But the final straw was my boss trying to say a little something personal at the end about his regret. And the sad thing is that I really did enjoy working for him. The third manager in less than 2 years at the company, he was finally someone who seemed to have my best interests at heart and wanted me to progress and do well.
But he obviously hadn't fought hard enough to keep me, and that made me sad. It still does.
Testing stage: Seeking realistic solutions.
Having only 12 minutes of network access left, I stayed in the building and sent a message to my team and closest colleagues explaining that I was leaving. I asked them outright for help with contacts and their network.
It's very interesting the reactions you get. Your suspicions about who will become part of your business network, who will remain an acquaintance, who will become a friend and who'll you never speak to, hear from or miss are pretty much confirmed within half an hour of the email going out.
- Some don't email you at all. Nuff said.
- Some send platitudes about hoping the economy improves and don't include personal emails. So long.
- Some send personal information with a vague promise to stay in touch, which you reciprocate but you know neither of you will honor. Whatever.
- Some send invitations to connect on LinkedIn, which makes perfect sense. Good move.
- And some give you real recommendations, information and contacts. Bless their hearts.
Acceptance stage: Finally finding the way forward.
I don't know if I have reached this yet. Probably not. I'll keep you posted.
Reader Comments (2)
well I'll give you a recommendation, and I didn't even work there!
Holder
Mark, you're a sweetheart.