Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 7.1

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Some dear friends of ours came around for brunch today. Let's call them Jack and Jill.
Jill has just finished a contract and so, like me, is home during the day now, like me.
We were joking about our demise....
We've gone from Double Income, No Kids to Single Income No Kids.
From DINK... To SINK
Does that mean that, because they were here having brunch, that we were SYNCHING while we were SINKing?
Yeah, yeah, I know, I need to up my meds.
"It shouldn't have been me."
But the emotions didn't really surface. I didn't start to cry or get angry. I just felt removed from it all. Numb.
The only thing that happened was that this strange woman with a pudding bowl haircut walked past the car and raised both arms to wave at me. I don't know who she was. I am not sure she knew who I was. She didn't smile. It was very strange.
And I'm still getting stuff off my chest - and it's very, very gloopy.
Thanks a lot, Shirley MacLaine.
Someone, somewhere, dared to breathe out their revolting germs and, immune system compromised by stress, I caught their cold.
And so.... If I take a deep breath I pay homage to Darth Vader, if I talk it conjures up Patty and Selma Bouvier and if you had to desribe my dress style you'd say I'm dolled up like Ugly Betty from a parallel universe where she lives in a trailer park,doesn't brush her hair and wears her food-stained gown all day. And every few minutes my chest contracts, my throat heaves and I spew out something that should only ever be a special effect in a horror film.
At moments like these, the Couch is the best place to be. Cable TV offers endless entertainment options, you can slip into a little nap whenever you want, and there's a convenient coffee table to hold all the medicine, tissues, water, hot tea, orange juice, hot water bottle.
So no research or job sites or outplacement firms today.
Just couch.
And coughing.
And asking Fluffy Bear to bring me things. Every cloud... (hehe)
In Diary of an Ex-Employee Day 3.0 I described the various fantasies I'd had about decorating my cube after I was canned from my job, and I asked for other ideas.
Thanks to everyone who's sending feedback!
More ideas for how I should have left my cube after I was canned:
Any more ideas? Answer in the comments or mail me at ittybittycrazy@gmail.com.
Various ideas are coming in about what I should have done to my cube when I left (see Day 3.0).
Fluffy Bear says I should have covered my desk in Plushy Guts, seeing as they ripped mine out...
You got any thoughts on what I should have left in my cube? Let me know in the Comments!
No, I'm not a TARP Wife. But I guess losing a well-paid white collar job makes me TARP Wife Ultra Lite.
And so, yes, I hate doing housework. Not only because I have a low disgust threshold and a high physical-activity-laziness quotient, but because it's a sign that things have changed, things are less sure, adjustments and compromises will have to be made.
And it's scary.
And it's sad.
And it sucks.
The journey into work was a little surreal.
First, there was a car in front of me that had been parked under a cherry blossom last night. There were fallen petals all over it that kept flying off towards me. It was like a parade of confetti celebrating my final return to this workplace.
Second, the Gods of radio were sending me messges with every song that was played. Isn't it funny how, in times of high emotion, all songs seem to be about you?
Third, when I arrived at the garage to park, my first Nemesis at this job was in front of me. She is a really difficult woman, always poker faced - actually, always sour faced - and any meeting with her was an ordeal.
Thank God I changed roles and didn't have to deal with her anymore but, whenever I did see her, I would kill with kindness. I'd raise my voice three octaves and give her my best Californian Happy Girl greeting, with a Hollywood smile. She'd usually ignore me. Today, though - on my last day - she smiled at me as I got out of the elevator. I was a small, tortured upturn of the corners of the mouth but, what the hell, it counts.
Clearing the desk
Clearing the desk went pretty quickly, not least because I was running late and only had twenty minutes to do it before I had to be at the lunch. I ended up with a carry on luggage case full of crap - damn, I need to learn to keep my life at home!
This is all FANTASY, you understand. I didn't do anything on my way out.
The Gods of radio were on form again. The last song I heard before arriving at my boss' building was Harden my Heart:
I'm gonna harden my heart
I'm gonna swallow my tears
I'm gonna turn and lea-heave you-hoo here....
My boss is a very nice man, and I genuinely don't think that he wanted things to turn out this way. On the other hand, a nagging voice in my head tells me he didn't fight hard enough for me. There are other sub-departments in our group where no-one has left so their manager obviously found a way to keep them.
Anyway, I handed over the PC, the company credit card, the parking pass, etc.
I started to go through my work and who needed to do what, but he really didn't seem to give a crap about that, telling me I needed to concentrate on my next steps, bla bla bla. Isn't it nice when you're leaving nobody cares that the work you're doing is going to stop?
Life lesson: Make sure you get on projects which are high visibility and you have knowledge that everyone needs to keep.
He said that I'd handled the exit meeting the other day very well and he was proud of me. I guess that's a compliment although it felt a little fatherly.
And so we said goodbye and that was that.
I wasn't particularly sad leaving and driving home for the final time. I guess if I had thought ahead I'd have loaded up my iPod with "I will Survive" and sung it at the top of my voice, probably intermittently out of tune.
It was pissing with rain and there was a lot of traffic, which was a pity, because what I would have liked to have done was to drive fast and loose and stupid, singing to 80s hits, wee wee wee wee all the way home.
I say this without sarcasm or irony.
I am blessed with wonderful friends.
Right now, I especially love Xanax Man.
Aaaaaah... All is well with the world...
How long before this stuff becomes addictive? He said that after one month I gotta start paying him the way only a lady can...
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?
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.
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.
I don't know if I have reached this yet. Probably not. I'll keep you posted.
What highs and lows and twists and turn await us on this new journey?
Tune in, dear friends, and find out.
I will chronicle it day by day for your amusment and to preserve what's left of my sanity.