Fi-yud!
Canned. Shown the door. Given the pink slip. Told to "Get the hell out."
Such was my experience this past Friday at the place where I had been working as a permanent freelancer since September 29th. I won't name names, but the joint rhymes with Shmotham (you know, where a superhero named Shmatman might live).
On the bright side: they waited til the end of the last day of the week to can my ass; security wasn't called to escort me from the building; I got to keep my personalized note pads and cubicle name plate.
On the dim side: I'm heading over to P.C. Richards post haste to see if there are any discarded refrigerator boxes lying around for me to inhabit.
I'm tempted to be vaguely bitter about the situation, but can't seem to find the energy. The gig was supposed to go permanent after a one-month breaking in period, and that never happened for various flimsy reasons.
At first I found myself wondering when I was going to be hired. That gave way to wondering if I was going to be hired. Finally, as the months dragged on, I spent most of my days there trying to determine just when I would be fired. Excuse me, I mean: fiyud!
Still, I was quite surprised to feel the axe fall. Funny.
I am reminded of those theories surrounding guillotined French criminals, as to whether or not they are able to see, hear, think and feel once they've been decapitated.
Such was my experience this past Friday at the place where I had been working as a permanent freelancer since September 29th. I won't name names, but the joint rhymes with Shmotham (you know, where a superhero named Shmatman might live).
On the bright side: they waited til the end of the last day of the week to can my ass; security wasn't called to escort me from the building; I got to keep my personalized note pads and cubicle name plate.
On the dim side: I'm heading over to P.C. Richards post haste to see if there are any discarded refrigerator boxes lying around for me to inhabit.
I'm tempted to be vaguely bitter about the situation, but can't seem to find the energy. The gig was supposed to go permanent after a one-month breaking in period, and that never happened for various flimsy reasons.
At first I found myself wondering when I was going to be hired. That gave way to wondering if I was going to be hired. Finally, as the months dragged on, I spent most of my days there trying to determine just when I would be fired. Excuse me, I mean: fiyud!
Still, I was quite surprised to feel the axe fall. Funny.
I am reminded of those theories surrounding guillotined French criminals, as to whether or not they are able to see, hear, think and feel once they've been decapitated.
posted by Steve Caratzas at 3:58 PM
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2 Comments:
I'm really sorry to hear it. The same thing happened to me -- and everybody else in my unit. Only we supposedly have until the end of June before we definitely have to leave.
Even though it's so commonplace, it just really sucks when it happens. Because it makes you feel rejected, even if the firing decision has nothing to do with you.
I really believe that work is about more than dollars and cents, it's a big part of what makes us happy.
Now that I know I MUST leave, I'm now being confronted with issues that I've been avoiding over the past few years, like should I try a different field (I've been in the nonprofit sector). But I really think that things like this can ultimately have a happy outcome -- you just have to be proactive about finding something new and fulfilling.
I wish you the best of luck.
Lelange.
Hey Steve,
Sorry to hear about this! I remember the possibility of full-time talk back in the fall when you started out there. I'm a little worried about my work at Lang now, since I've been tossed about in the full-time, part-time, promotion, promised one thing, given another routine for over a year now. My roommate was a temp for two years at one company and just recently was let go. And then my cat bit him.
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