Let Us Give Thanks

With all the medical worries over the past few days, and changing our holiday plans, I haven't had much time to worry about job hunting. The time that my severance and unemployment runs out is a long way away... at least 6 months or so. I don't want to waste time, yet, I don't have to panic at this point either.

So, the plan is to spend the holiday locally with my parents because my mother-in-law isn't up to a long car ride down to Long Island. I feel bad that they won't get to see their side of the family, but it's out of my hands... the decision was theirs to make.

For some unknown reason, my Father doesn't like to say Grace before Thanksgiving Dinner. It always fell to my Grandfather who -- a very religious man and a some-time Baptist deacon -- would conjure a prayer of epic proportions. Now that Grandpa has been gone for a few years, my Father has annointed me to say Grace.

So, I say a simple prayer, because there would be no hope of competing with Grandpa.

As I finish, my fiance quietly cries.

Hospital, Part 2

Thankfully, the mother-in-law had no negative test results and made it through the night without and further problems. So, the hospital discharged her this afternoon. The doctor wants a few additional tests, but the most serious issues have been ruled out.

She'll be staying at our place tonight because she is wiped out and we want to keep an eye on her.

Thanksgiving is in 2 days and we were supposed to go downstate to spend the holiday with their side of the family. It's not looking like she'll be up to a long car ride, so our plans may change.

When It Rains, It Pours

Woke up to the phone ringing at 6:30 am.

My fiance got to it first, and from her reaction I immediately knew there was a problem. My future mother-in-law was rushed to the hospital late last night with chest pains. Within minutes we are in the car and on the way to the hospital. She's hysterical and beyond comforting.

We spend the day at the hospital as my mother-in-law goes through a battery of tests. Everything checks out okay, but they want to keep her overnight. So, we left the hospital around 4:00 pm.

It's been a very long day and we'll be going back first thing in the morning.

Just Like Coney Island

I spent most of the week commiserating with colleagues in the same boat as I.

I can't believe how quickly the week went by.

I am still having high moments of feeling really positive and optimistic.

But, the reality of the situation has sunk in and I've started having some low, anxious feelings. It's worst in the morning when I get up and realize I have nowhere to go. I also have a lowpoint before bed... I know I will lay awake going over our finances in my head for an hour or so before mental exhaustion takes over and I fall into a fitful sleep.

The emotional rollercoaster has begun.

Relief

God, I hope I don't live to regret this, but I'm actually relieved. A large weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

The job hasn't been fun in a long time. Management has changed 3 times in the past 2 years and the folks that originally hired me are long gone. The new regime has marginalized my role. I'm left to focus on Powerpoint presentations and compliance issues because they took my budget away and I can't spend any more money.

The sun is shining again and I'm looking forward to new opportunities.

I spoke with some former colleagues including some that got the axe as well. The consensus is that we are the lucky ones. The poor schlubs left behind will be miserable up until the day they get the axe.

The company has already said that further reductions are a strong possibility in March. In corporate lingo, "strong possibility of layoffs" means "more will lose their jobs, we just don't know how many. We'll get back to you once we've seen the year end numbers."

The Final Call

I woke up today feeling okay, but it still hasn't sunk in.

I have a conference call in the office today at 2pm to wrap up some outstanding items.

On this call, I'm supposed to wrap up everything I do in a nutshell and deliver it as a series of bullet points so some surviving colleagues can assume my duties. How do you condense 5 years of evolving processes into bulletpoints?

I do the best I can and wish them luck, knowing full well that most of what I did will fall into a hole to never be done again. So much for the sales reps and customers that looked forward to the newsletters I did every month. Although, I've built enough of a library over the past several years that they can probably coast for some time. Just slap a new date on some old newsletters and who will know the difference?

Once again, I say goodbye to the folks in my office and leave a note for the cleaning guy who won't be there until 4:30 or so. He was a nice guy and I liked chatting with him. I feel bad that I never knew his name.

The Hardest Part

I pulled into my driveway and sat in the car with the windows down for a few minutes listening to the birds sing.

I know I'm stalling, but I really don't want to walk through that front door now.

"Honey, your unemployed fiance is home!"

I sit for a few minutes, gather my thoughts, take a deep breath and go for it. I decide to leave the boxes in the car for now and just go in with my bag.

By the time I'm through the front door, she's coming around the corner from another room. I just say, "Well, I got it. I'm done." She gives me a hug and tells me everything will be okay.

She returns to assembling a real estate presentation on the dining room table. I get a cold drink and sit down. My throat is still dry. She doesn't say much, but I can tell by the way her hands are moving she's nervous. I tell her the details as she's keeping herself occupied.

This wasn't as emotional as I thought it would be. But now, I have to call my parents.

My father answers the phone and the words immediately stick in my throat and my voice cracks. I feel like my adam's apple has been replaced by a jumbo-sized green apple. I gather myself quickly and tell him that I was "let go." (It sounds so much nicer than "fired.")

My father is a calm man, but I can tell he's a bit hyped up. He tells me not to worry and not to rush into anything, the family is behind me, and other reassurances. Again, I go through all the details and he asks a lot of questions. My mother wasn't home, but he promises to tell her when she gets home. He also tells me that she probably won't take this calmly and she'll call me later once she's had a chance to cool down. My mother's first reaction to a bad situation is to get angry and attack the party that has aggrieved her loved one. An understandable and admirable trait, but not exactly soothing.

My fiance has to go to a meeting now, so I'll have an hour or two alone in the house.

I sit in my favorite chair and punch up an episode of Gunsmoke that was saved on the Tivo. My mind is swimming now... hopefully this will comfort. Marshal Dillon will be tested, but he will certainly prevail by the end of the episode.

Curtains

A beautiful Indian Summer morning in upstate New York. So nice, in fact, that I'll swing by Dunkin Donuts on the way to work and get a large ice coffee (milk with six Splendas) and a Boston Cream donut.

I stroll in a few minutes before 9:00 and get myself situated. Still thinking about the lay-offs, I decided over the weekend that I should double my efforts and make myself as visible as possible. I thought I had been doing that before, but perhaps I can do more. I have a few ideas...

Because I'm in a remote office that connects to the main network over a phone line, it takes forever to get my Lotus Note email. (I really hate Lotus Notes -- it makes Outlook look great in comparison.) I get online and start tapping away at my email when I hear a voice behind me, "Hey Steve."

I turn and it's my boss. My boss works in an office 4 hours away. This is an unscheduled visit at 9:30 am on a Monday morning.

Within a microsecond, I know I'm done.

Rhetorically, I ask, "This isn't going to be a good day, huh?"

He replies, "No, it's not."

We move into a side office and the HR lady joins us. She has prepared for me a packet explaining how the whole process works, portable benefits, outplacement service, etc.

I'm listening to her, but all I really hear is a low buzz in my ears and I feel a bit disconnected. I'm actually very calm, but my head is a jumble and I'm suddenly very thirsty. I'm glad I brought my giant-sized ice coffee along.

I get full pay and benefits until the end of the year, and I can choose to continue working, or walk out once I've taken care of critical issues.

My boss asks me if I want to join him on a conference call at 2:00 pm to discuss a new project. Is he nuts? I just get shitcanned and he wants me to start working on a new project? Perhaps it was wishful thinking on his part. I tell him that I'd prefer not to get involved in any new projects and he nods. Now, all that's left is packing some stuff from my office into his car so he can take it with him back to the main office. I'm a goner, but my Scanjet will live on to scan another day.

As I'm helping him take boxes down to his car, I note that this is like a scene from an old western where they make the dead man dig his own grave before they shoot him and he falls in.

We exchange some pleasantries -- he wasn't a bad boss -- and he hits the road. I go back upstairs and say so long to my co-workers.

Now, for the hard part. I have to go home and break the news to my fiance.

It's still a gorgeous day. Bad things always seem to happen on really nice days.