Phase 1 - The After Shock - Facing the Reality of Being Fired
Alright, what comes next in the world of the unemployed? Or at least for me? The mind-numbing moments following the delivery of the 'letter' went by in kind of a blur.
A mad scramble to find enough boxes to move out over 5 years of stuff from my office - all the time deciding, "Is this mine? Does this belong to the company?" While I did a good job (mostly) of holding back the tears as I dealt with the fact of being released, not, according to my employer because they were unhappy with my work, or didn't like me as a person, and not because I did anything wrong.
But, rather that my 'skills no longer lived up to the needs of the position'.
In effect they suddenly felt I was not smart enough to keep doing my job.
The ridiculousness of is just too mind boggling to comprehend, particularly since not a week earlier I had passed an important certification exam, which, by its very nature, verified that, in fact, I WAS qualified to continue? Did I still need more training, sure, but again, I was SUPPOSEDLY on a professional development track - established and agreed upon between my company and I that should have filled in any perceived gaps in my ability.
So, there I was, packing, confused, boxing up coffee maker and mugs, photographs, posters, books, papers, equipment, lamps, plants, everything that one amasses over a long employment.
The way these things are handled is nearly inhuman, and at the very least degrading.
Apparently ALL 'terminations' are 'immediate' - no chance to say goodbye to colleagues, no two weeks to move out...
It's like a forced eviction - get your stuff out now.
Period.
Oh, and the whole process is watch-dogged by another employee (who is a friend - so it's not something he wanted to do either).
All so that I don't walk out the door with an extra pack of sticky-notes, or hand full of pens.
I guess I should be happy that they let me go on a day when there was little traffic in the building - saved even more humiliation and made for fewer conversations about what just happened.
So, I drive home, alone, numb, having not even told my wife, or kids about the situation, wondering how the hell I was going to do that.
A huge problem existed in this regard.
I was let go on a Friday and our company had weekend long event that required my family to both attend and be involved in the event.
I made up my mind to tell my wife, of course, right away that afternoon, but to let the kids do their part for the event and wait until the weekend before breaking the news.
The weekend went by, it was very difficult, because all of the 'players' directly involved in my release were present.
I could see the agony in my wifes' face, I could see the confusion in the faces of my co-workers (who were informed by memo Friday afternoon-they seem to have wasted no time in announcing my departure).
What was hardest for me was enduring all the, comfort hugs and hand shakes, and whispers about the injustice of the situation, and well wishing and hope for the future.
Sincere support, but at that time the shock just made it seem shallow - and tinged with a touch of relief that it wasn't THEM that had been released.
This brings us to Sunday.
Black Sunday, and oddly enough Valentines Day (wee-ha!).
Earlier that day I had shared the news with my oldest, he took it with nearly the same shock and disbelief that I did.
Sitting in our living room, surrounded by my wife, my oldest and the youngest on the couch.
I broke the news.
Trying to make an 11 year old understand the gravity of the situation.
It was not pretty.
There were tears and hugs around the room.
The uncertainty of the situation was talked about.
More tears.
The whys and what happeneds were discussed.
More tears.
Finally, a long, painful, silence, punctuated with sobs.
Everyone went to bed.
On the way to bed, my youngest kind of summed everything up, in his own special way, "Dad?" he said, "Yes, what is it?" I answered.
"Why do people have to be so mean?" "I don't know.
" I answered as I gave him another hug.
"Dad?" "Yes.
" "I still love you.
And, don't forget you're the best Dad in the world!" Choking back nearly as many tears as when I was released, I hugged him tighter, "Thanks, honey.
Now, go to bed.
" I guess as the day ended and the situation had turned from baffling, almost ethereal disbelief that it was all a bad dream, to the cold hard smack of reality that I was now jobless.
Had begun to sink in.
A mad scramble to find enough boxes to move out over 5 years of stuff from my office - all the time deciding, "Is this mine? Does this belong to the company?" While I did a good job (mostly) of holding back the tears as I dealt with the fact of being released, not, according to my employer because they were unhappy with my work, or didn't like me as a person, and not because I did anything wrong.
But, rather that my 'skills no longer lived up to the needs of the position'.
In effect they suddenly felt I was not smart enough to keep doing my job.
The ridiculousness of is just too mind boggling to comprehend, particularly since not a week earlier I had passed an important certification exam, which, by its very nature, verified that, in fact, I WAS qualified to continue? Did I still need more training, sure, but again, I was SUPPOSEDLY on a professional development track - established and agreed upon between my company and I that should have filled in any perceived gaps in my ability.
So, there I was, packing, confused, boxing up coffee maker and mugs, photographs, posters, books, papers, equipment, lamps, plants, everything that one amasses over a long employment.
The way these things are handled is nearly inhuman, and at the very least degrading.
Apparently ALL 'terminations' are 'immediate' - no chance to say goodbye to colleagues, no two weeks to move out...
It's like a forced eviction - get your stuff out now.
Period.
Oh, and the whole process is watch-dogged by another employee (who is a friend - so it's not something he wanted to do either).
All so that I don't walk out the door with an extra pack of sticky-notes, or hand full of pens.
I guess I should be happy that they let me go on a day when there was little traffic in the building - saved even more humiliation and made for fewer conversations about what just happened.
So, I drive home, alone, numb, having not even told my wife, or kids about the situation, wondering how the hell I was going to do that.
A huge problem existed in this regard.
I was let go on a Friday and our company had weekend long event that required my family to both attend and be involved in the event.
I made up my mind to tell my wife, of course, right away that afternoon, but to let the kids do their part for the event and wait until the weekend before breaking the news.
The weekend went by, it was very difficult, because all of the 'players' directly involved in my release were present.
I could see the agony in my wifes' face, I could see the confusion in the faces of my co-workers (who were informed by memo Friday afternoon-they seem to have wasted no time in announcing my departure).
What was hardest for me was enduring all the, comfort hugs and hand shakes, and whispers about the injustice of the situation, and well wishing and hope for the future.
Sincere support, but at that time the shock just made it seem shallow - and tinged with a touch of relief that it wasn't THEM that had been released.
This brings us to Sunday.
Black Sunday, and oddly enough Valentines Day (wee-ha!).
Earlier that day I had shared the news with my oldest, he took it with nearly the same shock and disbelief that I did.
Sitting in our living room, surrounded by my wife, my oldest and the youngest on the couch.
I broke the news.
Trying to make an 11 year old understand the gravity of the situation.
It was not pretty.
There were tears and hugs around the room.
The uncertainty of the situation was talked about.
More tears.
The whys and what happeneds were discussed.
More tears.
Finally, a long, painful, silence, punctuated with sobs.
Everyone went to bed.
On the way to bed, my youngest kind of summed everything up, in his own special way, "Dad?" he said, "Yes, what is it?" I answered.
"Why do people have to be so mean?" "I don't know.
" I answered as I gave him another hug.
"Dad?" "Yes.
" "I still love you.
And, don't forget you're the best Dad in the world!" Choking back nearly as many tears as when I was released, I hugged him tighter, "Thanks, honey.
Now, go to bed.
" I guess as the day ended and the situation had turned from baffling, almost ethereal disbelief that it was all a bad dream, to the cold hard smack of reality that I was now jobless.
Had begun to sink in.