Over time, though, my coworkers slipped under my skin. Mark, who sat across the aisle from me began to tease me about my party-hard habits (this on the days I spoke the least). He made me laugh. I started to reach out a bit more, and learned about Mark's kids and Kulani's husband. Greg came on, and started to come down with me for my daily lunchtime workout. I talked to Skip about his wife's illness, and laughed with Larry about the number of times I stole his second desk chair - he started to threaten to charge me rent. I learned to care about their lives and their families. I found myself settling into the rhythm of the office, looking forward to walking out in the evening with my coworkers become friends.
Then came last Thursday.
We'd heard rumors about layoffs around the corner, but nothing had been officially communicated, and you know how an office rumor mill can be, so I thought the old game of telephone had blown things out of proportion. I couldn't have been more mistaken. When it came down, it came down hard.
The day started normally enough. I came in, sat down, and started working. Around 9, the bloodletting started without warning. Without any notice at all, the managers started coming around to cubes, tapping the occupant on the shoulder. They brought the person into a private office, only to come out about five minutes later. After closely watching the hapless now-former employee shutdown their computer, and confiscating all corporate devices, the managers left them to pack up their stuff and get out the door.
I missed the first part of this - I was on the other side of the floor, and came back to find the first desk empty, its personality gone along with its owner. I hadn't been gone for more than five minutes, but didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.
Another guy from down the aisle came by to sadly say his farewells as he walked out the door. After he left, I thunked down in my chair, my legs deciding they'd had enough. The next hour was just awful. Watching the parade in and out of the office, wondering, waiting to see who would be tapped next, almost hoping it would be me, just to get it over with. I quickly gave up all pretense of work; I just sat and stared at the aisle in disbelief.
After the dust settled and the endless hour finally drew to a close, they gathered those of us who remained into a conference room - too many empty chairs, too many missing faces - and told us business was down, cuts were happening across the company. The managers who'd had to deliver the news looked almost as shocked as the worker bees who sat staring numbly at one another, taking mental inventory, assessing who was still there, which faces were absent.
At the next meeting, the leader tried to make some joke about how we were all arrayed at the back of the room; the guy next to me muttered, "Well, yeah. That's how it looks after a bomb goes off - there's a clear space in the middle, with all the rubble gathered around the edges." He nailed it.
When the shock started to wear off, I was furious. I've ducked my way past a lot of layoffs in my career; I've never seen one handled so poorly. I get it, sometimes layoffs happen, but they don't have to happen as they did last week. No warning, no communication, no chance to prepare, no chance to say goodbye. Just a regular Thursday, turned nightmare.
I'm still struck by the rank incompetence of it all. Was no one looking at the numbers? (It's a privately held company, so numbers are not published.) They gave raises (to some, not me) in September. In December, they said the company was doing well enough to start funding a 401K match after the first of the year. But at the end of January, we need to cut staff by 30%??? Really???
I've been looking for an hour to find a positive note to end this blog entry on, but it's just not there. Good Is, but Evil Is, too, and I saw it raise its ugly head last week.
After the dust settled and the endless hour finally drew to a close, they gathered those of us who remained into a conference room - too many empty chairs, too many missing faces - and told us business was down, cuts were happening across the company. The managers who'd had to deliver the news looked almost as shocked as the worker bees who sat staring numbly at one another, taking mental inventory, assessing who was still there, which faces were absent.
At the next meeting, the leader tried to make some joke about how we were all arrayed at the back of the room; the guy next to me muttered, "Well, yeah. That's how it looks after a bomb goes off - there's a clear space in the middle, with all the rubble gathered around the edges." He nailed it.
When the shock started to wear off, I was furious. I've ducked my way past a lot of layoffs in my career; I've never seen one handled so poorly. I get it, sometimes layoffs happen, but they don't have to happen as they did last week. No warning, no communication, no chance to prepare, no chance to say goodbye. Just a regular Thursday, turned nightmare.
I'm still struck by the rank incompetence of it all. Was no one looking at the numbers? (It's a privately held company, so numbers are not published.) They gave raises (to some, not me) in September. In December, they said the company was doing well enough to start funding a 401K match after the first of the year. But at the end of January, we need to cut staff by 30%??? Really???
I've been looking for an hour to find a positive note to end this blog entry on, but it's just not there. Good Is, but Evil Is, too, and I saw it raise its ugly head last week.
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