Today I Was Made Redundant

Working from home has its advantages.

Yesterday, I had a video call from Senior Management. Normally I would be taken into his office, ill-prepared for the bad news. I would sit there passively listening, soaking it all in before leaving, numbed by the experience.

I wouldn’t be able to work as I replay the conversation in my head. Over and over, analyzing every word, every gesture, every eye twitch. It wouldn’t take long for the tears to form. For me to lose the ability to speak. Voice cracking. Emotions on display. I’m sensitive to bad news. I don’t react in a conservative, manly fashion.

Being at home, I’ve managed to avoid the uncomfortable. I can weep and feel distraught in comfort. I can phone a friend without being in a toilet for privacy. I can scream and swear and raise conspiracy theories aloud without bothering other staff members.

An open-plan office sometimes feels like a cage.

He called mid-morning. It was unusual because he never calls me. In the nine months he’s been in the role, we’ve barely exchanged a word. The rest of the team adores him. He’s jovial, witty, and charismatic to everybody bar me. I don’t think he hates me, it's more a case of me being too far down the corporate ladder to spend any time getting to know me.

Dressed in white, his bald head shining with perspiration, he was clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t like doing this,” he said. “I have to read from a script,” he said.

He was following the playbook in case it got ugly. He said everything without saying anything. And then he said he would appreciate it if I didn’t talk to any other team members. Swear to secrecy. Bottle it all in. Don’t mention a word until the truth is out.

Naturally, I called everybody on the team to understand the scope of my situation. Was I the only one? Was I being singled out? Did he say more to my colleagues?

My Manager had the same phone call except she was upbeat and positive. A proposed change sounded like a great move. A possible improvement in her role. An increase in salary, more responsibility, who knows? She’s a big fan of our new manager. A true die-hard loyalist. He can’t put a foot wrong.

Three members of our team have quit in the last month. Only one was replaced. There are now two of us left and my colleague has soaked up the work from the resignee.

I’m the useless component. I’m the least useful in the team, the one who constantly asks for more work, more responsibility, and larger projects, only to be told to stay in my lane and stick with what I do. Meanwhile, various jobs are outsourced because they would be too big. He’s called upon former colleagues, the old boy's network, people he knows and trusts. I’m an in-house graphic designer whose work is slowly becoming obsolete. Print is dead unless it’s an outside agency making the suggestions. There is no room for you at this table, Reuben.

We meet tomorrow.

Me. HR. One support person and Chad, my senior manager. Chad, the new guy with a marketing plan. Chad, the savior of the department. Chad, the man who has barely said a word to me in the nine months he’s worked here. Chad.

Three more hours to go.

I can already feel my emotions getting the better of me. I’ve been known to cry in meetings. Big sobbing tears in front of my very empathetic manager. I’ve worked with her for nine years. We began as colleagues before her promotion. We have a very healthy relationship built on respect and friendship. I wish she was delivering the bad news today. I’m comfortable breaking down in front of her.

Three more hours and my fate is sealed.

I’m trying to stay relaxed. After all, this is what I really want. I want to move on. I want to leave. I’ve been here two years too long. I’ve watched my work dwindle over time. I’ve watched friends leave and the team change. I’ve sat at home pretending to work while I walked my dog. I’ve complained to friends about how my work-life has grown stale and I suffer from crippling boredom. It’s how I maintain my writing on Medium and other social platforms. Too much time.

This will be a relief.

This will be a new chapter. A push I need.

How will I feel if they offered me part-time work? Or a secondment? Would I accept my years in purgatory? Unable to leave for mortgage fear and my children starving?

No. This will be for the best and a fate I can (happily?) accept.

Deep breaths. Try not to get emotional.

Ten minutes. That’s all it took for nine years of labor to be dismissed.

Here’s the summary, Reuben. Come back to us if you have any questions. Thanks for your time.

“To date, this financial year has been the toughest that XXXXX has seen since the 2008/09 Global Financial Crisis. This is a result of several compounding factors: food prices starting to come off their peak at the same time as inflation and input costs have significantly increased; the high cost of fertiliser inputs still flowing from COVID impacts on international supply chains; the conflict in the Ukraine affecting food availability and energy prices; a lack of labour; significant uncertainty and change with regards regulation on water quality and greenhouse gas emissions; competitive pricing in the market; and the continued weather impacts. These factors have resulted in a significant reduction in fertiliser volumes sold by XXXXX and, consequently, profit made for our shareholder customers.”

Yeah…there’s a war in Ukraine that has impacted my role in New Zealand. Did anyone see that coming? And ‘uncertainty’ with regulations? What kind of bullshit is that? At least he didn’t mention the recent floods and acts of god that have impacted the North Island. Or the recent egg shortage…man, that one is a killer.

To be fair, I took a support person with me. A very level-headed individual who advised me to say nothing. And that I did. It allowed me time to breathe, not get over-emotional, and zone out when the bad news hit.

I’m feeling calm.

Nine years of service means my redundancy payout is none too shabby. I have time to formulate a plan. Time to focus on what’s best for me and my family. Time to not panic and apply for roles I want to do rather than a ‘must-get-a-job-as-a-mortgage-needs-to-be-paid’ mindset.

Still. It’s disappointing when your new Boss had already decided he wanted to employ all his old mates and slowly wear you down and out of a job. Every major job was outsourced leaving me twiddling my thumbs.

My manager was more upset than me. She’s a beautiful person. She took me out for coffee afterward with much-felt empathy and big hugs. That’s how you treat people.

But everybody loves Chad…right?