Losing my job

Day 1:
The day of reckoning has come. We gathered in a room after being summoned to a MANDATORY town hall meeting late the day before. Because of road repair it took me almost 2 hours to get to the office. My route is always very predictable so this delay must be some sort of sign.

The presentation of the new business strategy took ten minutes with another 40 minutes of questions and answers. Management does not have a complete plan, but they wanted to notify us of the Decision, which for those of us who have been with the company since the acquisition, was not entirely surprising. But I wish they had come to their conclusions much, much earlier, before people left other jobs and relocated. Though not explicit, for some individuals like me, it was obvious that our services would no longer be needed. For others, it is unclear.

An hour later, at a meeting with my immediate management, the elephant in the room was finally named and we were given the blessing to look for other opportunities. We will look forward to a more definite communication later. Until then, the next several weeks are "a gift".

I've been saving and hoping this day would be at the end of the year. I've been keeping my ear low to the ground and I have been working on developing relationships in other parts of the organization. Fact of the matter is, I don't want to go elsewhere. I will need to examine my reasons why though as I think they center on inertia.

That day, I was energized by the free pass and think of how I have the time to explore ideas I have.

My afternoon was spent talking to colleagues who did not see this coming at all. I am trying to encourage them to pursue their passions, but these are old salts and are familiar with a harsher world. I know I sound naive.

I am strangely calm and even energized. I will see what is out there and enlist as much help as I can. This is the push I need to spread my wings.

Day 2:
I had arranged a meeting on Day 1 with one of our senior managers after the news. Now I sit in his office and he asks how I am doing. I quip that I was wanting more time to spend at home. He asks how old my children are and out of nowhere I begin to cry. It takes me an eternity to give him their ages. I can't bring myself to say that one's birthday is next week so I give him the older age out of expediency. I repeatedly apologize and say I don't know where this is coming from. He gets a box of tissues and says it's because I care. I realize that I am grieving and am surprised at myself.

We spend the rest of the hour trying to speak constructively about my next steps while I focus on not bawling as the raw emotional nerve is occasionally touched. I look down at my pad of paper and do my best to avoid thinking about myself and my family.

My intent for the day was to move forward with what I needed to do to close up and to find something new, which meant time at the computer and facetime with colleagues. After my meeting, computer time was out of the question and I started driving back home. Then I put some angry music on and eventually found my way to a Japanese restaurant where I had my comfort food--noodle soup.

Fortified, I make my rounds with colleagues. I feel so much better to be speaking with people but am sometimes sent reeling when someone touches me in sympathy. As I speak throughout the day, I distance myself more from my soon-to-be former employer. While the system's problems were always fodder for discussion, I find myself concluding that it's not my problem any more.

I come home and cry some more. Fat Tony and the kids come home and give me hugs and FT agrees to get me pepperoni and sausage pizza with beer for dinner. I will let myself go for another day or so--until the need to cry goes away. I go to sleep hoping I will be reset. Then wake up a little later and cry some more.

Day 3.
I am not fully reset. Still feeling raw. I got up and am writing. Today I will go to another division, where I have a mentor. (I joined this program earlier, realizing I needed to make a change.) I will also see a friend there.