I Misplaced My Job
A Tale of "Organizational Changes" and Other Euphemisms
As I continue this new year jobless, it occurred to me that not everyone has had the experience of being laid off by a corporation. And since humans derive immense pleasure from vicariously experiencing the misfortunes of others, I figured I would honor you with the story of my own unemployment. So grab a cigar and enjoy.
It was a seemingly unremarkable Thursday last fall. As a remote worker, I had developed an expensive habit of beginning the first half of my day in a coffee shop. I sat down with my bank-breaking cup of Los Angeles $4.25 drip and opened my computer. The first email I saw was from several people in my company whom I had never worked with or even met.
“We would like to meet with you to discuss organizational changes. Please be in a private location for this meeting. Thank you.”
Well, crap.
For any readers not fluent in euphemisms, I have translated this email into standard English:
They had scheduled the meeting for 9:30am. I looked at the clock and realized that time was of the essence. I informed the barista that I would be needing a to-go cup because I needed to rush home in time to be fired. We both chuckled at life’s irony.
Once home, I logged on for the meeting. The man tasked with the dirty work seemed uncomfortable. While informing me that my “position was being eliminated,” he looked me over as if trying to determine if I was the type who was going to make his job easier or harder.
Maybe I should’ve made it harder?
“Oh really, my position is being eliminated? Which position am I being moved into?”
Or
“I can’t believe this is happening on the same day that my pug got diagnosed with lupus!”
Or
“Sorry, you froze there for a second. Could you repeat that? Oh no, you froze again. Nope, still frozen.”
The possibilities are endless, but those are not nice things to say, so I did not say them. Instead, I simply nodded and drifted off during his prepared remarks about my “hard work, dedication, something, something, blah, blah, blah…”
At least my lay-off hadn’t coincided with my work anniversary. One of my coworkers was let go on the same day that he received an automated email congratulating him on a five-year working relationship. Oy. Seems like a few other “organizational changes” may be needed at the company.
Following each round of “workforce reductions,” a company-wide virtual town hall was held to address “restructuring” and “new directions.” I remember seeing on my Outlook calendar that the next town hall had been scheduled for after my departure. This made sense, as I recalled previous meetings where the information presented did not seem particularly relevant to those who had just been fired. Like this unsolicited update from one of the higher-ups:
“I don’t want you guys to think that the company is in any trouble. We’re going to be fine. We’re still in a great position. I know it’s been a tough year for the industry, but rest assured, we’re going to come through this stronger than ever!”
Not quite the flavor of reassurance craved by the newly vagrant.
Per company tradition, I assume that the surviving employees also received an email informing them of which of their coworkers had been “released.” That’s a fun word choice. It implies a certain sense of freedom. I visualize the door of one of those vintage golden bird cages being opened.
“Fly! Be free!” exclaims the owner, as he releases his canary from its bondage.
But the reality isn’t quite so romantic. After being “released,” I had severance documents to complete, unemployment insurance claims to file, company equipment to return, a brief spiritual journey to undertake, and ultimately a new job search to begin. In fact, I believe that I’m doing more work unemployed than when I was working. (There’s that irony again that we were talking about earlier.)
Oh yeah, and I’m doing a Substack because it never hurts to have a back-up plan like a free newsletter.
Please enjoy this short clip of yet another relevant example of irony: