Apologies for the comparatively long silence, but as you can probably imagine -- given the unfortunate events of this past week -- I haven't really been in the right frame of mind for bloggin'. After they broke the news to me on Monday afternoon, I worked a surreal and depressing day on Tuesday and then hitched a ride with my sister and brother-in-law back out to Long Island (where Peggy and the kids had been all week). It was lovely to be surrounded again by my loved ones after walking around in a numb daze for the previous two days. I was originally going to come back after the 4th and work Thursday and Friday, but it seemed nigh on pointless at this stage. My soon-to-be-ex-boss agreed, so I stayed out in Quogue for the duration.
It was refreshing to be away from the city, but I was unsurprisingly unable to shake my alternating feelings of shock, hurt, rejection, anger and disbelief. Apart from brief moments of catharsis and reflection (driving around in my Mom's crappy Ford Taurus, cranking Echo & The Bunnymen's "Do It Clean" at abjectly inane volumes, going for long walks into the desolate Pine Barrens of the Quogue Wildlife Refuge where I could curse loudly without worrying about anyone hearing me other than a few spotted owls), I was in a largely unshakeable funk. On the 4th, we attended a gathering of my extended, quasi-fractured family, and while I'd been initially dreading it (knowing I'd have to go through the whole song & dance a million times of how I'd just been job-eliminated), it ended up being hugely enjoyable and emotionally beneficial. While I was spinning my sob story to one of my cousins, he gracefully interrupted, pointed to my stunning wife and my two children who were giddily scampering about. "Alex, " he calmly stated, "I know you're down and you're nervous, and believe me, I've been there -- but take a look at what you have. You are rich!" He's absolutely right.
I can bleat and moan all I want about this, but my situation is hardly unique. Downsizing -- much like shit -- happens, and corporate America has little-to-no time to wring its pudgy hands worrying about hurting anyone's feelings. As betrayed and cheated as I'm currently feeling, I need to get over that and concentrate on the future.
Tomorrow -- Monday -- I'm going back into the office for what will probably be the final time. I have to iron out some logistics with H.R., clear out my desk and attempt to pass the baton as smoothly as possible to the colleagues who will be continuing without me. I don't expect it to be fun. But what's done is done. I could sit around lamenting what might've and/or should've been, but that won't get me anywhere. I have leads to follow, e-mails to send, interviews to line-up and, most importantly, two little mouths to feed. The time for melancholy is over.
Recent Comments