Rather than wallow in self-pity, I feel that if I share my feelings and the inevitable challenges that one faces through a "downsize", it will be therapeutic for me, and perhaps even helpful to others going through a similar experience.
The past couple of days have been trying. On Thursday I made a call to the HR liaison at the high-tech company I interviewed with a few weeks back. Unfortunately, I did not get the job I so badly wanted. When I asked what the chosen candidate had that I did not, the only feedback should give me was that the team was very impressed with me and would like to keep my resume on file should another position come available in their department. She said that all she knew was that the other candidate had been “just the right fit” for them. I moped a few moments and then picked myself up by the proverbial bootstraps, and tried to look ahead. I tried to dwell on the positive feedback I had received, and then I phoned back my contact at another organization. I had submitted a resume to them and now asked her if it would be worth my while to follow my resume and cover letter up with a phone call. Shortly after that I received the coveted “Come in for an interview” email, which boosted my spirits. I began to think towards all I needed to do to prepare for this next interview round. “Think positive” I kept reminding myself, pushing the “Poor me, I really wanted that other position” right out of my head. I was able to sleep that night.
Why, though, does it seem that for every step forward I take, something drags me back four steps? Read on.
Yesterday morning I awoke to a message from the hubby that he had received a message from the mortgage broker. You see, since November we have been working on negotiating a refinance of our mortgage to take advantage of falling interest rates. Naturally, the call came yesterday that we need letters from our respective companies verifying income. Go figure this whole thing couldn’t have been settled a month or two or even six months ago. It *had* to happen now, two weeks after I lost my job. It was yet another blow to the self-esteem to think that my situation might now contribute to our mortgage renegotiation falling through. After many well-meaning friends and family reminded me that none of this situation is my fault, I tried to dry my tears and call back the mortgage broker. With any luck he will still be able to get the renegotiated lower rate, either on the hubby’s merits, or via my T-4. Keeping my fingers crossed.
Yesterday was lunch with the family of my daughter’s grandmother who is beginning chemo next week. Her doctor told her that she refuses to let her go down without a fight. I agree and assured her that we would all be fighting right alongside her. My daughter and I made our way to the restaurant to meet up with the family. As we walked through the door, the table that we had to walk by to get to the family was full of my former work colleagues, the girls only, and the ones who still have a job. It was yet more icing on the cake of my day. I love them all dearly, but there is still so much pain that seeing people from the Former Company just reopens wounds. It was awkward, but I smiled and said my hellos.
On a positive note, I was told that my expenses would be in my bank account next week. When I asked about the remaining severance and vacation pays outstanding though, the answer was “No, that will not be in the bank.” That stung. It still stings this morning. It infuriates me that they can seemingly shrug us off with no explanation or placation, and that our outstanding monies owing are working towards keeping them afloat for another few weeks when our bills are starting to come in and need to be paid. The owner brothers, in their arrogance and greed, have still not signed an agreement with the Venture Capital company. Signing that agreement for additional funding means that they are out of jobs. Of course, there is no consideration for those of us that THEY put out of work. Most of our thoughts now are to legal counsel. There is a Ministry of Labour in the province that would normally get involved on some level in these situations. At the very least, they can remind the Former Company of their obligations by law. Unfortunately for us, the provincial workers are presently on strike, and have been for 6 weeks, with no resolution in sight. Naturally, this means that there is no one to turn to for help in resolving this issue. Yet more frustration.
Again, it all begs the question that I posed the other day. If the Former Company had broken their contract with me, the one that says that I will paid severance in lieu of notice, should notice of termination be necessary, then am I obliged to honour my non-disclosure agreement with them? I am still looking inside myself for an answer.
Please note the little link (under the description of this page) that reads "email me". I look forward to your feedback.
One day blends into another. This roller coaster of emotions is a ride I would not care to do indefinitely. I can’t seem to get past this anger yet, and the bitterness is a frustrating emotion to battle. I went up to the Former Office today to pick up some papers from my HR file, and ran into old familiar faces. One, the Director who escorted me to “The Meeting”, tried to be kind when he saw me, asking me about the state of the job hunt. I snapped a few remarks in return and he persisted. I made it clear with my tone, I think, that I was not into making happy small talk. I was just not at the “top of my game”, being there, watching offices being cleaned out and desks being shuffled around, to ease his conscience with platitudes of pleasantries that would in no way have been sincere. When “The Meeting” was over a few weeks ago, and I was left standing with no Director/Manager to escort me back to my desk, he was standing right beside me. He didn’t offer me a hand, a hug or even a word of sympathy. He didn’t offer to escort me back to my desk. He didn’t offer a single word of encouragement or even do me the courtesy of saying goodbye. So did I owe him a smile today? Did I owe him a cheerful disposition when I was feeling so awkward and out of place in a place that I spent an average of 11 hours a day in just a few weeks ago? I don’t think so, but that’s just my opinion.
I picked my daughter up from school today and offered to take her to buy the card she wanted to buy for her grandmother. We headed off to the store, and she scouted the aisles of cards, complaining that none were “right”. They weren’t right because she was looking at the sympathy cards. I reminded her that nobody had died yet, and that the ones expressing encouragement and “I am thinking of you” would be more appropriate. She and I looked through them, and all of them ended with “I know you will get through this and everything will be ok.” But everything will not be ok. Her grandmother isn’t going to “get through this”. And so my tears started to flow. I couldn’t look at another card that said it would all turn out right in the end. I stood there with my 15 year old champ asking if *I* was ok, or if I needed to go outside. I just needed to get away from the cards. But it made me wonder who was going to lean on whom. As a mother, my tears are for my child having to go through this. Sure, there is pain for me too. I adore this woman, and there is nothing I can do for her. But the tears were falling not because of my pain, but because I was thinking of the pain that must be coursing through my child. Yet, she was the strong one this afternoon. She was the trooper. And we left with a card in hand that was “right”. But it’s one that I picked and will be from all of us. My daughter just didn’t find anything that would express what *she* is feeling or wanting to say. I tried to encourage her to buy a blank one and fill it in with her own words. Perhaps in time her words will come. She lets things out slowly, my child, and not with rivers of tears like her mother. I am not sure which way works best, but as long as it comes out and doesn’t stay bottled up inside, it is healthy to find one’s own way to grieve.
Yesterday was weird too. I was waiting on the arrival of a fridge that was being delivered. The old fridges needed to be cleaned out of food and washed out. I made numerous trips to the basement and back up again shlepping boxes of things. I was on my hands and knees trying to reach the back corners of everything to shine and polish. I was sweeping and mopping, and I kept thinking "I feel like a charwoman". I am not big on housekeeping at the best of times, but yesterday was something else. I kept thinking, “If I only had a REAL job, I wouldn’t be here.” Silly, I know. I kept reminding myself that even if I had a job to go to, I would still be cleaning the fridges in anticipation of this new one arriving. It didn’t help. Why does everything come back to the same old sense of self-worth being in question? Does one ever get used to the roller coaster? My stomach is doing flip-flops.
Yesterday was tough. I told my daughter about her grandmother. As I expected, there were tears and fears. “I don’t want her to die”, and “it’s not fair” were among the words I fully expected to, and did in fact hear. I reminded her, (thanks to a well practiced Aunt’s coaching…) that the cycle of life is that grandparents are supposed to go before grandchildren, and that there is never a “good time” for it to happen. She was concerned about whether her grandmother was in much pain. She was not yet ready to face her, so we didn’t visit, as I had wanted to. I think we all need some time to absorb the information, but by the same token, time can fly far too swiftly in cases like this.
On a brighter note, I am not angry today. I am just “coasting”, and a little numb actually. But I did do the radio this morning and it felt good to be "back".
We had a lovely family dinner together last evening, the three of us, for the hubby’s birthday. We even managed to laugh and make the prerequisite “Now you’re over the hill” jokes, which we all needed. Although it wasn’t the birthday I expected to give him, I know he appreciated it nonetheless. Because that is the way he is, my hubby… He is the most compassionate, caring and loving individual I could have hoped to find to complete my life. Of course, there are innumerable other adjectives that aptly describe him, but I’ll save those for another day, lest his head get too big for his 40 year old body. *grin*
As for the Former Company, it seems that there were some improprieties regarding the last payroll. Had I had any sense of any kind of less-than-upfront business practice, I think I would have looked elsewhere quite some time ago. I hate being where hands are dirty, as I feel that it can never lead to anything good in the end. There was a particular member of the Board of Directors who was questionable in his integrity. He had been the part owner of yet another company I had worked for a number of years ago. Back in the fall he was asked to leave his own company by his partners (including a brother) once it was discovered that he had bilked his company of some serious cash. And yet he remained a member of the Board of Directors of the Former Company. I think he was a hockey-playing buddy of one of the owners. Those loyalties tend to run deep in the Boys’ Club I guess. And go figure that on the day of the dreaded Downsize, our CEO was nowhere to be seen, as he was off meeting with said member of his Board of Directors. Hmmm… The plot thickens.
And here’s a question or two. If an employee of a company signs a non-disclosure agreement with a company, it is a binding contract, correct? If a company signs an agreement of terms of employment with an employee (that would include things like, if said employee is laid off, he/she earns 2 weeks severance in lieu of notice, plus outstanding vacation pay, etc.), is it not equally as binding? And if one contract is broken, is it license to break the other contract? In between composing cover letters and tweaking my resume, I am penning a letter to the Ministry of Labour. There has been no word on whether our severance pay, vacation pay and expenses are forthcoming. We have been encouraged by some fellow Layoffees to lodge formal complaints. There is courage in numbers. I keep hearing that everyone else who is still working for the Former Company is also in a panic mindset, not knowing if they will see a May 1st paycheque or not. I feel for them, truly I do. But now that the reality of my own situation is becoming increasingly clearer, I find myself not nearly as empathetic as I normally would be.
