I Was Laid Off!

The air smelled heavy today.  Could have been the fresh tones of spring,  a musky scent accentuated by blooming cherry blossoms.

Blossoms were not to blame.

It was 9:30 a.m., I sat at my desk,  nestled in the familiar grooves of my chair – the same chair I’ve called “home” for 7 years.

My boss D. sauntered over. “Jeannie, can I talk to you for a sec?”

An escalating sense of foreboding gripped me.  In the 7 years under his employ, I can count on one hand the amount of times we’ve had a private, impromptu meeting.

This felt wrong.  I knew it before the HR director swooped in behind him, shutting the door to the meeting room and my corporate life.

“We’re not doing well this quarter and had to make some hard decisions.  Unfortunately this means we have to initiate some lay-offs, and you’re one of them.”

All I could muster was an “hmmm…” waiting for more.

“H. has a package here.”

H. cleared her throat.  “Jeannie, in this envelope is your severance package.  We’ll offer two months pay, plus an extra week for the years of service.  During the two months, we’ll still honor your extended benefits.  Here’s a firm that deals with career transitions.  They offer a wonderful seminar and I highly recommend them.  We cover the cost of the seminar.”

“Okay, does the package follow Canadian employment standards??”

Vigorous nods all around.

“Oh yes, the amount is the maximum that the law allows, and that extra week is on top of it,” said H.

D. piped in, “This was a very hard decision… you’re not the only one to go.  7 more people will be laid off today and 8 more in Calgary.  I had the hardest time coming to this decision, I don’t like to let anyone go.  I mean, I didn’t sleep last night.”

“I know how hard this can be.  And I understand, know that we’ve been slow.  Out of curiosity, why me?”

“We lost a lot of key deals lately, your chargeability has been lower than the rest of the group.  It’s been like that for a while.”

“Right, suppose that makes sense. ”

It unnerved them.  My calmness.  Afterward, I spoke to a work friend -  the rumors circulated on how I would handle it.  Drop to the carpet tile in an epileptic fit?  Wail?  Burst out into waterworks?

H. interjected, “Well Jeannie, why don’t you go home and think over everything.  If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me directly.”  That was subtle – LEAVE NOW.

“That’s fine, but can I remove some personal items from my computer?  I would appreciate that latitude.”

Code for “Uh, I left some blog stuff on my computer and need to wipe the evidence.”

D. said, “That’s fine, you can do that.”

He rose from the chair, extending his hand.  “Thank you for all the years, it was a pleasure working with you.”

I dreamed about this moment, pinning him down with vitriolic words about their anti-humanistic policies and ridiculous business practices, but I stopped.  His eyes bled with distress, even sadness.

I clasped his out turned hand.  He changed gears and grabbed me, pressing my smallness against his tall frame.  Somehow, it was fitting, D. is a good man underneath the management veneer, and after 7 years, our parting felt like a divorce.

The show would begin once I exited that meeting room.  My cheeks mottled red, as though poppies burst all over my face.  I felt dazed, drunk on the knowledge I would never have to step foot in this place ever again.

The next few minutes were rapid fire.  I tried to print benefit forms to claim the contact lenses and glasses that I just purchased at $377.00.  No dice, IT had already severed my access.  How easily I’m wiped from existence.  Meanwhile, HR director strolled by more than once to hurry me.  I nearly lashed out.  There’s nothing worse than a person who just spelled your doom standing over your shoulder.

Until that point, I was eerily calm, but heat began to travel from my toes to the tip of my head, spraying my cheeks even redder.  I wanted to ring up Jason Reitman, tell him he forgot to film one more piece to Up in the Air.  How bizarre to be living a stereotype of a movie.

If I had been someone else, a person intensely dependent on this job, what you feel is a loss of dignity while the people you once joked with by the microwave stare in discomfort, look agog, but observe the proceedings silently, most likely frightened that they will be next.  I classified myself as untouchable, yet being surrounded by suffocating gazes and pitying judgments still stung, leaving me isolated – terribly alone.

Despite my current fear of the unknown, as I gathered personal files, scooped medical receipts, I made a pledge to myself right there, to never be beholden to a static entity again.  We put so much of our soul, our spirit into these corporations, always hopeful they’ll do the same in return.  I’m here to tell you, they don’t.

The second you’re handed that severance package, years of service are swiped from your old desk, loyalty is insubstantial, and respect is a paper tiger you grasped onto for purchase.

I met a co-worker in the lobby who befell the same fate, she was stunned, looking out of place clad in a wool coat and scarf – balancing an archiving box of her personal files.

“Jeannie, were you laid off too?”

How could she not notice as my expression mirrored hers, coat and scarf, clutching a bag of shoes.

“Yup… me too,” I said, trying to smile through the awkward moment.

“I don’t know what to do… I just put my cheque in the bank.  Thought, might as well while I’m here.  Now I have to go home and tell my husband.. we just bought a new house, supposed to be moving in this Friday…. ”

Her soft brown eyes glistened, pleading with me to erase the last hour of her life.  All I could do was hug her, and say, “I’m sooo sorry… ”

As for what I plan to do now?  Not quite sure.  It’s only been 12 hours and frankly, I’m still absorbing the shock.  Action will come next.  Stay tuned.

Photo in Feature Gallery: Pink Sherbert

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Tagged as: Cubicle, Laid Off