There’s no easy way to say this…

no easy way to say this

“We’re eliminating the Marketing position.”

Images of a sit-down meeting I had with the president only nine months ago flashed before my eyes. I was asked to join the management team, leaving behind a secure job for a “better” opportunity. Now I was being laid off. And there it was, over as quickly as it began. On a Friday morning, I was kindly escorted out of an office that I would no longer call home, with boxes and a pot of freshly made French Onion soup in tow. Oh yes, to add insult to injury, I was laid off on the morning of the office’s Soup Day, unbeknownst to the Human Resources manager.

I sunk into the driver’s seat and politely sped off. There was no looking back. ‘What am I going to do?’ ‘How am I going to pay my bills?’ ‘How do I file for unemployment?’ ‘Did I do something wrong?’ ‘What will my colleagues think?’ ‘What’s my DAD going to think?’ Shocked, incensed and disappointed, the 45-minute drive home was a long, tearful one filled with phone calls to my boyfriend, family and closest friends. Fair to say that they were as shocked as I was. By the time I made it home, I was numb with fear, doubt and uncertainty. I was officially unemployed.

By 12:30pm, I was at Fountain Place in Salem having lunch with my mentor and colleague, John Boris. I tried to maintain my composure, I was having a hard time. Tears traveled down my cheeks and onto my portobello panini, which I was having an even harder time swallowing. I must say, this was the first lunch that I’ve ever had with John where he barely spoke a word. I was a mess, and all I could do was apologize. Repeatedly.

“It will be okay. You get one day of grievance and then I expect weekly progress reports,” he said.

John was right. I knew I wouldn’t cry after today (for the record, I’m not much for crying). It’s just been  a tough day. By 4pm, my boyfriend tried comforting me with an early dinner at Kowloons. Truth be told, all I wanted was a Mai Tai. Just one. The last thing I needed was to be sobbing over fried rice. But I couldn’t even enjoy that in peace, as my phone vibrated with a call from the Vice President. She apologized and said she was sorry that she couldn’t be there for the meeting this morning. That was awfully nice of her.

By 7pm I was back home, now sitting outside of my house in the passenger seat of Chickie’s car. Chickie is my dad. He stopped by to drop off some junk mail; it’s his way of visiting and checking in on me. Embarrassed and wanting to get it over with, I told my dad that I had been laid off and recounted the day’s events. I knew he wouldn’t be angry with me; but, you have to know my dad, he’s not a “warm and fuzzy” kind of guy.

“I know how you feel though. I got laid off in the 70s before I found this gig. Been there ever since.”

I was born and raised in Lynn, Massachusetts, a small city that once thrived on manufacturing and industry. My dad is a crane operator for General Electric, going on 43 years. In her earlier years, my mother worked the assembly lines in the shoe factories. A modern day Norma Rae that one there. As he proceeded to tell me how the job I do doesn’t “produce” anything, I thought about how boring it must be to work on an assembly line. The same thing, over and over again, day in and day out. “Well, Mikki… I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t wish that on anybody. Well, you’re not going to find a job sitting around in front of the TV. ” Wait, what?

After an hour of listening to some good old-fashioned (very old-fashioned) fatherly advice, I told Chickie that I’d be alright. After all, I’m a Wilson. Between you and I, I’m pretty sure my dad has no clue what I actually do for a living. He just knows that I go to work to do…work. God bless him. I love him to death. By 10pm, I was definitely ready for bed. As I lay my pounding head on the pillow, I knew only a few things that were certain after a day filled with uncertainty:

  1. I will wake up with eyes so puffy that may land me an audition for Mike Tyson’s “Punch Out”.
  2. I now have the perfect content to start that blog I’ve been trying to start for years.
  3. I am unemployed, but I will get a new job!
  4. Those two Aleve will kick in any min…. [snore]

2 thoughts on “There’s no easy way to say this…

  1. Hi Mikki,

    Well, you lasted nine months? I beat your record by a long shot! I accepted a temporary position as an Administrative Assistant that was to last “at least” two months, most likely longer. Yes, I knew that it was temporary and that the person I was covering was off on medical leave. But it was a “severe” back injury, probably needing surgery, she may never return. After just two weeks, my boss came in to “my” office, closed the door and told me that the end of the following week would be it!

    Three weeks!!! I keep telling myself that I did gain some things, an addition to my resume, another reference, more experience. Still, I was stunned when the end of my job came so quickly.

    At least, Mikki, you are still in a better place because you have been working in the area of your interest and you are not viewed as a “career changer.” Trust me, that title is hard to overcome.

    • Hi Janet. Thank you for sharing your story. Yes, I suppose whether you’re laid off after three weeks or nine months, it’s still just as difficult. Even though we may feel as if our time was wasted, you are correct in telling yourself that you did gain some things. I, too, have to take a moment and reflect what I have gained from this position and move forward. I know that being a “career changer” is a tough title to overcome, but I think it is an opportunity to show that you had the courage to pursue your passion. As a matter of fact, “passion” is one of my upcoming blog posts. Stay tuned! I wish you the best! ~Mik

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