Last week, as both my boss and I exited our respective bathrooms at the same time, I greeted him with a friendly “Good morning, how’s it going?” Not at all unusual, unlike his response, which can best be described as a low mumble and grunt combo. He proceeded to hang his head and walk away without saying a word; avoiding me like the plague. It was an awkward exchange, to put it mildly, but right then and there, I knew something was up. When I got an email later that afternoon about a meeting he, myself and my supervisor were scheduled to have, I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
As I took a seat in my boss’ office, he and my supervisor greeted me with jittery eyes. Neither of them seemed capable of avoiding the stammering and stuttering that flew off their tongues as they tried to relay the purpose of our meeting. Then I was handed a piece of paper that basically said I had two weeks to shape up, or they would be forced to let me go. It was the most uncomfortable meeting I’ve ever sat in, replete with copious amounts of corporate jargon and ego assuaging. I stopped listening after the second, “We like you – we really, really like you,” and “It’s not us, it’s them” – “them” being upper management. All of that was completely lost on me. I guess that’s what happens when your primary source of income is threatened. Your brain goes into hyperdrive, and you calculate some very basic concerns almost immediately, like keeping a roof over your head and food on your table.
Perhaps I should back up and fill in a few gaps. I work at a place in which speed is king. If you’re not the minion/work horse/robot the company expects you to be, despite the quality of your work, then you’re out of luck. No one had any complaints about my work’s quality, but they made it seem as if I had been lollygagging and squandering billable hours by taking an exceedingly long time to complete assignments. To be fair, I had been given a warning about this very issue before, one that was stricken from my “record” once satisfactory progress had been made. But despite my best efforts (and after being observed and given some pointers by two company “veterans,” neither of whom could discern wherein lied my so-called time management problem), I slipped back into old habits, according to my boss and supervisor. So they were forced to give me the ultimate ultimatum.
Realistically speaking, the chances of me doing in two weeks time what I clearly haven’t been able to do in nearly a year at my job, in their eyes, are quite unlikely. And, of course, if I were to pull that off, I would have to maintain that pace while under a microscope. Fearing the loss of my job once again should I not maintain that same level of productivity. I don’t doubt my ability and I don’t doubt the fight in me when faced with adversity. But the truth is, I’ve been seeking alternative employment for some time now. In fact, I’ve daydreamed on many occasions about chucking up the deuces and bouncing out of my job with a brilliantly stated speech about the cold and unwelcoming work environment my bossed created, why they have such a low retention rate, little to no incentive for success, and what they can do with their half-hour lunch breaks. So why, then, did I feel like crap?
In the time I’ve had to reflect since receiving this news, I remembered that wonderful thing called an ego. Yes, I wanted to leave my job, but I wanted to do it on my own terms when I was good and ready to go. It’s like a breakup. I wanted that petty edge. I wanted to be the one with bragging rights, to be able to say, “I broke up with him,” not the other way around. But life doesn’t always work out the way we want it to. Some people might read this and think I had it coming, warning and all. I couldn’t handle the demands of the job, so I have to suffer the consequences. And they could have fired me on the spot, so I should be thankful I at least have two weeks to either get it together or look for another job and yada, yada, yada.
All of that aside, here’s what really matters: A week after receiving that news, my attitude has changed. That meeting served as a reminder that my current job and position in life is not where I’m supposed to be. My time is literally up, and now I have to plan for a much brighter and fulfilling future. I feel like I’ve gotten the kick and the push that I needed.
It’s moments like this where you can really get a sense of what you’re made of, the fight in you. I know when something is worth fighting for and when it’s time to let go. I’m clearly not a good fit for this company, and they can clearly kiss my ass. But I thank them for opening my eyes and for giving me this blessing in disguise. I’m going to make the most of this opportunity to start anew and to focus on pursuing the passion that really matters to me: writing. Like any job, writing comes with its ups and downs. It doesn’t always pay the bills, but it’s much more satisfying, meaningful and personally rewarding than any other job I’ve ever had. It’s time for me to acknowledge that that’s what I’m here to do and to focus my efforts on making that happen. Keeping a roof over my head and food on my table is still very much a priority, but I know that this is not the end of the world and that I’m going to be okay. I feel happier and lighter as I shape up and ship out into bigger, better and more fitting things. Wish me luck!
