Seeing the names of long time employees on the roster of layoffs is frightening. I've worked here for 13 years and in any profession that is practically a lifetime. I assumed this kept me safe, but on the list are names of people who have worked here for longer than I and this really shakes the foundation of my so called security. What surprised me is how fast those leaving must pack up their personal belongings before being escorted from the premises. The personal effects littering my office would take me several trips out to the car just to scrape the surface and watching the RIF’s pack up one box and go told me I should clear out some of my junk. Now. You know, just in case.
In my desk were letters and statements from 1997, work reviews, pictures my now 17 year old daughter drew when in first grade. Photographs, books, knick-knacks line my shelves like a second home. I threw most of the paperwork away, saving the drawings and photos. I packed my books and went to take down the framed photos from the desk and wondered if I did put those away would I cause someone to think I wanted to leave? Now I was torn between cleaning up and put in the motion of actually being fired. What if they saw I had abandoned my allegiance? What if they had never thought to let me go and now this prompted the idea? What if the picture of my grandma and my dad were the only things protecting me from the layoff? I stood with them in my hand, unsure to pack or put back.
Superstitiously I put the pictures back on my desk, adjusted the tiny Kwan Yin statue, and set about back to work. I have a box of items to go home and a larger box to go home this weekend when no one is watching. I hope to have drawn a balanced line between a willingness to stay and my dignity when it is time to go.
In my desk were letters and statements from 1997, work reviews, pictures my now 17 year old daughter drew when in first grade. Photographs, books, knick-knacks line my shelves like a second home. I threw most of the paperwork away, saving the drawings and photos. I packed my books and went to take down the framed photos from the desk and wondered if I did put those away would I cause someone to think I wanted to leave? Now I was torn between cleaning up and put in the motion of actually being fired. What if they saw I had abandoned my allegiance? What if they had never thought to let me go and now this prompted the idea? What if the picture of my grandma and my dad were the only things protecting me from the layoff? I stood with them in my hand, unsure to pack or put back.
Superstitiously I put the pictures back on my desk, adjusted the tiny Kwan Yin statue, and set about back to work. I have a box of items to go home and a larger box to go home this weekend when no one is watching. I hope to have drawn a balanced line between a willingness to stay and my dignity when it is time to go.
2 comments:
Dignity. Always choose dignity. Fewer regrets that way. Fewer "Shoulding" on you.
Here is the plan, you take one box and act all cool as you walk out the building escorted by the security guards, while I sneak into your office and smuggle out the next box.
Post a Comment