Tuesday - The Layoff
Feb. 20th, 2007 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreThese last few days I've been replaying the day I got laid off in my mind. As far as layoffs go, it wasn't that unpleasant. Getting fired is unpleasant. Getting laid off is only sad.
The corporation I worked for has been in a slow state of decline for many years. It was in a slow state of decline the day they hired me. In its beginning, it was a heady and exciting place to work, or so I hear. In those days, venture capitalist would pour money into dotcom companies and no one seemed to think it was a problem that they weren't making any of that money back. Then one day the venture capitalist sobered up, took a look at their books, and heads began to roll. One of the things that my employer did was move a lot of its operations from the San Francisco Bay area to the Houston area, where the cost of living is much lower. You can pay a Houstonian half of what you could pay a Californian to do the same job. Texas is kind of like India as far as San Francisco is concerned. So 5 years ago the jobs went to Texas, where I picked one them up.
For awhile the Houston office grew, but then it began to shrink. And shrink. And shrink. We had 24 people. Then 12. Then 8. I knew it was a bad sign when the board of directors laid off the upper management, leaving an office of 4 peons - Matt the Manager, Astro Joe, The Cajun Queen, and me. When The Cajun Queen left, they replaced her with Melanie, who I like a lot and would have mentioned here before except that I know for a fact that - unlike Matt, Joe and the Cajun Queen - she reads this blog (Hi, Mel! Any leads yet?) and so the protocols of tact and privacy made it easier not to mention her at all. Still, she plays a major role in this story, so I have to bring up her name.
With an office of only 4 people who sit in close quarters, it's hard not to get attached and become friends. You care about each other. You know about each other's personal lives. Everyone had mementos on their desks brought back from the vacations and trips that the others had been on. Which meant that giving Mel and me the ax was very stressful on poor Matt. Matt's dad is a former CEO of the corporation and his dad sits on the board of directors, so he's got more job security than the rest of us. When they close things up, he will be the one who gets to turn off the lights on his way out.
Our tiny office had three rooms: a break room, the main office, and a file room. The file room has a small table in the middle of it so that it can serve as a conference room, if needed. Thursday morning, Matt asked that Mel and I step into the file room with him.
"There's really no easy way to say this..." he began. He was holding two folders in his hands. I wondered if we were getting written up for something.
"I'm going to have to lay you both off today."
There was a long pause.
"I'm sorry."
Mel and I looked at each other, and then at Matt. Mel looked surprised, but calm. Matt looked miserable.
"Well, Matt, you know this leaves us no choice," I said with a wry smile and a shrug, "Mel and I are going to have to unfriend you on MySpace for this."
"Oh, God, please don't," he said. He glanced up at us from where his face was resting on his hand. I was kidding, of course, but he was serious. The act of unfriending a person on a networking site is highly symbolic when you do it to someone you know in real life. When you do it to a stranger, it means I no longer find you interesting, but when you do it to a real-life friend it really does say our friendship is over. I was only teasing him to lighten the mood, but the gallows humor was too much for him to take at that moment.
Mel assured him that we wouldn't unfriend him over this, because it wasn't his fault. The board of directors eliminated our positions, not Matt. We knew this.
"If there's anything we can do for you, anything you want from your desks, just let me know," he said, "We're pretty much closing this office. Joe and I will be working from home in a few weeks."
"Letters of recommendation saying how great we are would be a nice touch," I suggested.
"Of course! If you want a letter of recommendation, just ask. I'd be happy to write you one."
"Matt, don't make us ask for that," Mel said.
"Okay, yes, we both want one," I told him, "Consider this asking."
"Good, fine, okay," he said. He looked relieved to be able to offer us something positive.
"Will you miss us? Say you will," I told him.
"Of course I will. I mean, yes, you know, we're all friends here. I'll miss you both. I mean it."
"That's all we needed to know."
Next he would need to talk to us one at a time, to sign paperwork. After the paperwork, we were free to leave as soon as our desks were cleaned out.
I've cleaned out a desk before. It takes one box to leave a company, no matter how many years you've been there. All your photographs, your calendar, your pencil holder and its contents (it's a closeout, they didn't need it back), your personal effects and all yours odds and ends fit nicely into a single copy-paper box or a 12"x15" bankers box. I even got to keep my Swingline stapler, which I plan to spray paint red (Rustolium should do the trick).
One box that fit nicely in the back of my car. One door in my life and career closed quietly and politely behind me. Somewhere up ahead a new door is waiting for me to open it. The tricky part is finding the right door and seeing if my key fits.
And so it goes.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
PS. Friends, Romans, LJers: please forgive my lack of comments for the time being. DSL is not available in the sticks where I live and the cable company in my area is in a state of transfering from one provider to another. Until then, I am stuck with (and it pains me to even type this word) dialup. I hope to return to the civilized world as soon as possible.
The corporation I worked for has been in a slow state of decline for many years. It was in a slow state of decline the day they hired me. In its beginning, it was a heady and exciting place to work, or so I hear. In those days, venture capitalist would pour money into dotcom companies and no one seemed to think it was a problem that they weren't making any of that money back. Then one day the venture capitalist sobered up, took a look at their books, and heads began to roll. One of the things that my employer did was move a lot of its operations from the San Francisco Bay area to the Houston area, where the cost of living is much lower. You can pay a Houstonian half of what you could pay a Californian to do the same job. Texas is kind of like India as far as San Francisco is concerned. So 5 years ago the jobs went to Texas, where I picked one them up.
For awhile the Houston office grew, but then it began to shrink. And shrink. And shrink. We had 24 people. Then 12. Then 8. I knew it was a bad sign when the board of directors laid off the upper management, leaving an office of 4 peons - Matt the Manager, Astro Joe, The Cajun Queen, and me. When The Cajun Queen left, they replaced her with Melanie, who I like a lot and would have mentioned here before except that I know for a fact that - unlike Matt, Joe and the Cajun Queen - she reads this blog (Hi, Mel! Any leads yet?) and so the protocols of tact and privacy made it easier not to mention her at all. Still, she plays a major role in this story, so I have to bring up her name.
With an office of only 4 people who sit in close quarters, it's hard not to get attached and become friends. You care about each other. You know about each other's personal lives. Everyone had mementos on their desks brought back from the vacations and trips that the others had been on. Which meant that giving Mel and me the ax was very stressful on poor Matt. Matt's dad is a former CEO of the corporation and his dad sits on the board of directors, so he's got more job security than the rest of us. When they close things up, he will be the one who gets to turn off the lights on his way out.
Our tiny office had three rooms: a break room, the main office, and a file room. The file room has a small table in the middle of it so that it can serve as a conference room, if needed. Thursday morning, Matt asked that Mel and I step into the file room with him.
"There's really no easy way to say this..." he began. He was holding two folders in his hands. I wondered if we were getting written up for something.
"I'm going to have to lay you both off today."
There was a long pause.
"I'm sorry."
Mel and I looked at each other, and then at Matt. Mel looked surprised, but calm. Matt looked miserable.
"Well, Matt, you know this leaves us no choice," I said with a wry smile and a shrug, "Mel and I are going to have to unfriend you on MySpace for this."
"Oh, God, please don't," he said. He glanced up at us from where his face was resting on his hand. I was kidding, of course, but he was serious. The act of unfriending a person on a networking site is highly symbolic when you do it to someone you know in real life. When you do it to a stranger, it means I no longer find you interesting, but when you do it to a real-life friend it really does say our friendship is over. I was only teasing him to lighten the mood, but the gallows humor was too much for him to take at that moment.
Mel assured him that we wouldn't unfriend him over this, because it wasn't his fault. The board of directors eliminated our positions, not Matt. We knew this.
"If there's anything we can do for you, anything you want from your desks, just let me know," he said, "We're pretty much closing this office. Joe and I will be working from home in a few weeks."
"Letters of recommendation saying how great we are would be a nice touch," I suggested.
"Of course! If you want a letter of recommendation, just ask. I'd be happy to write you one."
"Matt, don't make us ask for that," Mel said.
"Okay, yes, we both want one," I told him, "Consider this asking."
"Good, fine, okay," he said. He looked relieved to be able to offer us something positive.
"Will you miss us? Say you will," I told him.
"Of course I will. I mean, yes, you know, we're all friends here. I'll miss you both. I mean it."
"That's all we needed to know."
Next he would need to talk to us one at a time, to sign paperwork. After the paperwork, we were free to leave as soon as our desks were cleaned out.
I've cleaned out a desk before. It takes one box to leave a company, no matter how many years you've been there. All your photographs, your calendar, your pencil holder and its contents (it's a closeout, they didn't need it back), your personal effects and all yours odds and ends fit nicely into a single copy-paper box or a 12"x15" bankers box. I even got to keep my Swingline stapler, which I plan to spray paint red (Rustolium should do the trick).
One box that fit nicely in the back of my car. One door in my life and career closed quietly and politely behind me. Somewhere up ahead a new door is waiting for me to open it. The tricky part is finding the right door and seeing if my key fits.
And so it goes.
PS. Friends, Romans, LJers: please forgive my lack of comments for the time being. DSL is not available in the sticks where I live and the cable company in my area is in a state of transfering from one provider to another. Until then, I am stuck with (and it pains me to even type this word) dialup. I hope to return to the civilized world as soon as possible.
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no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:46 pm (UTC)This is a strong company. I sent Dawn Christian there for an interview and everything went well in the test, until she had a "been sick and just had baby " brain fog moment in the interview.
contact Shirley Speer at sspeer@titledata.com or call 713/880-2600.
If you get an interview, let me know and I will go over maps and surveys with you so you can know something about it walking into the interview.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 09:09 pm (UTC)On a more serious note, I've been in your position before, twice, in fact. I definitely know how sucky it is, even if you know it isn't your fault :-/
no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 09:12 pm (UTC)but you have to do it with a completely straight face
no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 09:14 pm (UTC)In fact, I think I remember her mentioning her daughter.
And so it goes.
Date: 2007-02-20 05:57 pm (UTC)Re: And so it goes.
Date: 2007-02-20 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:25 pm (UTC)I've never made close friends at a job before, so leaving my positions in the past has never been hard. IF I ever leave my current job, though, I think I will know exactly how you feel.
Good luck, kiddo, and best wishes!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 07:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-20 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 01:28 am (UTC)how true. I'm waffling over doing this.
Well, enjoy the freedom :D Sounds like you wont have to wait long to find new work.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-22 12:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-21 07:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-22 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-23 07:02 pm (UTC)