The Life and Times of One Statistic
April 24th, 2009
A Dramatic Blaze of Pyrotechnic, Power-Ballad Glory
Or a Kazoo Playing Taps
Today is Friday, April 24, 2009.
It has been precisely two days since I’ve been passive aggressively laid off my current part-time position. It certainly was not the glorious Fireworks-and-Bengal-Tigers display I was hoping for. It felt more like sputtering out of fuel while I was already in last place. And then, as I gulped back a few sobs, I did a sad victory lap which I didn’t finish because it started raining and everyone left.
Not that my job was in any way comparable to some fictitious drag race. If I had to back it up and choose a better metaphor, I’d say it was akin to a game of hot potato, and not everyone realized we were playing.
How could it be compared to throwing baked vegetables in a circle? Here’s how.
I worked for the company full-time until July 2008 when I had “had it” - the details of which will be revealed in my upcoming press release, “This Is How Over It I Am.” I definitely wanted to stick it to them - epically. I did so by giving them 6 weeks worth of notice, in which time I read every resume and conducted every interview for my job. I even gave them a solid, genuine recommendation.
I showed them.
After my self-imposed time limit, I conducted a few weeks of runoff, unsuccessful freelancing for them that ended in a brief yet pointedly bitchy exchange of emailed misunderstandings.
But wait - there’s more:
Without my meddling, the business took a swift and miscalculated turn, crashed through a brick wall and landed belly-up in a lake full of crocodiles. 90% of my former coworkers were civilian casualties, yet the company heroically soldiered on.
I ran into my bosses at a going away party for one of the last employees standing who decided to leave on her own volition. She thought it best to put the animal to sleep rather than watch it wriggle and bleed out in the trap.
A few moments of chatting and a couple of days after the chance meeting, I received an entirely expected phone call asking for some part time help.
Just a reminder: everyone has her price. And in case we’ve never met, it will help to know that I’m a masochist with something to prove, and I have an impressive ability to idealize difficult situations and people.
I worked there 3 days a week and successfully ignored the old antics that quickly came back in full effect. I adopted a “not my problem” attitude as I had seen others do. “It’s just a phase” I said as I watched my superiors hold the business underwater and shake it by the neck until the bubbles stopped coming up. Everything was temporarily peachy and copacetic for a few weeks of glorious paychecks.
Wednesday, however, I was told, “I think we’re good for this week.” And I, somehow, was surprised.
This most recent part time employment with the company, mind you, was based mostly upon ghost writing for their Boston Terrier.
Yes, that’s what I said. I was not writing as a dog in a dog voice, whatever that is, but as a character who I accidentally invented that manifested itself in their actual dog. I was the appointed court jester for a while, writing witty, topical, completely unnecessary commentary on a blog, Twitter and Facebook.
Here, look.
The universe discovered this hilarious loophole - the fact that I was being paid (and strongly encouraged) to D around on social networks on the job. And, sadly, my gravy train took the express route and quickly exhausted its funding.
It may sound ridiculous - mostly because it is - but it’s either that or this, which is the first thing I found today on Craigslist:
Website Coordinator & Content Writer - Mustang Enthusiast
The horse or the car? Does it matter?
That single post extinguished my hope and incentive for the day’s job searching. It made abundantly clear what kind of soul-crushing journey awaits. I saw the middle - the part where you are unmistakably reminded that you have no marketable skills, no niche appeal and no desire to start from scratch.
The post actually refers to the car. And oddly, the job description sounds like something I’d be interested in and qualified for - minus the Mustang enthusiasm.
In a world where Americanmuscle.com, an internet retail business exclusively devoted to selling parts for Ford Mustangs, not only exists but is growing and seeking employees, I’m forced to consider the possibility that this whole recession thing is just a thinly-veiled excuse for incompetence. I think we can all take a cue from the 7+ year-old business and say, “Prudent spending be damned!”
How do you recover from something like that? And on a gorgeous, 70º and sunny day like today?
I guess a better question is, when is it NOT a good time to prematurely drown your sorrows in a large Rita’s gelato? Never, that’s when.