29 July 2007

Pivoting, or, the view from Rightsizing at 12:30 AM

It went down like this.

I knew it was coming. Rumors had been flying for weeks. From the moment I heard the word reorganization, I knew that the moment of truth would come when I was offered a bottle of water and asked to sit down, please. See, here's the kicker: I had already been through this once.

That's right. I have been laid off twice. It's my dirty secret that just became dirtier. I'm the cheating husband forgiven once, but cast away when it happened again. Who is going to want my soiled hands? Well, who the hell cares at this point. Neither time did I actually do anything wrong, which, even though it is the truth, is exactly what I would scream if I was caught with a hooker in the back of a stolen Baptist church van, so even to my ears it seems a bit hollow.

I was laid off when I was twenty-two, and again last Thursday, when I was thirty. I've been told getting laid off is the new threesome. The person who told me that person made me laugh really hard and beer came out of my nose, but is there truth to this? Does getting laid off make me mysterious and fascinating, or does it make me a tramp?

Thursday morning I had just set my morning coffee down when the phone rang. I knew it was going to happen Thursday. I had my questions ready and I knew what to expect. There would be two people, there would be a folder of information, there would be a small grouping of cold bottles of water. Water, of course, being the liquid of choice for people who just lost their livelihood. I knew that the HR person would offer water and make soft, comforting noises, while the management person would try to look concerned, but would make the mistake of checking their watch.

So I went downstairs, took a deep breath, and accepted a bottle of water. It took five minutes.

And so here I am now, shiny and new and unemployed. I feel like my shell hasn't totally hardened yet, but I still have to go back to the office tomorrow, and everyday for five weeks after that till my last day. Everyone else who got realigned/rightsized/affected/laid-off/kicked-in-the-groin will be applying for jobs against the others, sort of like some hideous version of Survivor. I have something else in the offing so I get to avoid that scrum, thankfully. Last week, the rest of the people in our department spent their time being dicks, basically. Some were boastful that they hadn't lost their jobs, as if they did something better than others and deserved a pat on the back. Others were mad that I didn't want to hang out with them right after I got laid off. I'm sorry people, but there is a reason that people who get laid off together go drinking together- it's because with all my might I want to punch you in the face for keeping your job, not something I feel towards my other re-aligned friends. So grow up and deal with it.

One thing I hold high above my head is the fact that this will be the last job I ever do in a cubicle. Goodbye forever, beige walls. But still: five weeks until my final day of work? What? How ever will I fill that void of time? Especially since my sole function is to support a group that is being disbanded. Not much left for badger to do. Maybe stock up on office supplies. Read a lot of the internet. Figure out how unemployment insurance works.

It's going to be ok. It just hurts my pride.

Apologies for the long winded ranting. Ambien and Schaffer's are an awesome combo.

4 comments:

Princess Amber said...

Oh Badger! I promise never to realign you so long as you keep coming up with lines about whores in the back of stolen church vehicles. Ever. Even if I caught you doing that I wouldn't mind so long as you had something as witty as that to say about it. And I'd give you kudos for your amition and ingenuity. I might even give you a high five and just get in there with you; we could split the bill.

I love your work on all fronts, except work that puts you in a cubicle which is the kind of work you hate,and that make you hate.

english guy said...

I suggest you spend the remaining five weeks subverting the rest of the office.

Start with low level stuff like occasionally emitting whinnying noises at your desk. If you can throw in the odd wolf howl, chimp shriek or hog squeal that works well too.

Send a company wide email consisting only of the phrase "I am fine. I am realligned." repeated over and over again.

Sharpen a large butcher's knife at your desk while eating raw beef.

Put a turd in a named tupperware box in the staff fridge. Leave a little note saying "Help yourself! XXX"

Remember, if anyone confronts you about your behaviour, react calmly and maturely. Apologise profusely and say things are tough for you at the moment.
Then leave a decomposing goat's head in the ladies.

The time will fly by...

HRH King Friday XIII said...

naw you'll bounce back. you're smart.

mlfa said...

Don't worry, tramps are fascinating. You are bit a mysterious. And though it would breech all codes of professional conduct, reading this makes me want to give you a hug.