The promised details

I was ready to get laid off when I dressed for work this morning. I just felt it would be today. My office's dress code is very casual, but something inside me said "I am not going to look like a schlub in front of these human resources people." So I put on my best slacks and a colorful top and makeup and accessorized appropriately, just in case.

And I was right - by 9:30, I had gotten the speech ("the economy, necessary streamlining of operations blah blah blah") and the big green folder of paperwork and had to make the Walk of Shame across CubicleLand.

I almost wanted to write "UNION" on my notepad and hold it above my head just for fun, a la Norma Rae.


When this journey toward layoffs started, I was scared to bring anyone along with me, but now that I have officially gotten notice, I am so glad I was honest here on my blog.

The support and warmth of people on the internet is incredible. It makes me feel like I am part of some magical community.

Of course, I don't know how magical it will feel when, sometime in the spring, I show up on y'alls front porch, asking for lunch and then have you tell me to get lost or else you are calling the police, but still...for now, it feels great.

And then there's my family and local friends. Also lump-in-the-throat great. Nothing like adversity to make those bonds clear.

And to tell you the truth (slap me if I begin another paragraph with "and") it wasn't all that adverse.

As I said in the post previous, my team was decimated. Out of five in California, two are left.

But we took it with grace and humor and a good bit of joy.

We made the human resources layoff lady cry. Twice. And this is a woman who lays people off ALL DAY LONG. She cried because we were so great and because we comforted our boss instead of asking to be comforted. Because we laughed and joked and looked each other in the eyes.

We were released for the day but we didn't want to leave. We had a potluck planned for lunch, so we hung out and bitched and laughed and then ate a long, slow, delicious lunch topped off honest-to-God Snickers Salad.

I will indeed miss the people I worked with. They were truly the finest kind and we made an awesome, work-doing machine.


Only 3 remain

That our efforts were not good enough for the company we worked for speaks more to the impatience and cruelty of modern corporate life than to anything we did or didn't do.

All things come to an end, and it was time for an ending. Time for me to bust out and to move on. I have no idea what I will be doing, but I have no doubt that my life will be more creative, more zany, and more fun-filled than it was before. With quite possibly a good dose of struggle and angst thrown in for good measure.

Of one thing you can be sure: I will keep you posted. My rollercoaster is yours.

Thanks again for your kind words, hopes and prayers. You're the best.