Saturday, January 10, 2009

Cleanin out the office! YAY!

After some consoling words from my manager, I ambled from the conference room and back to my office.

I stood, staring at the desk where I had spent the greater portion of two years. The desk where I hung various photos, postcards and pieces of memorabilia. A Yankees ticket. A stub from a Broken Social Scene show in Brooklyn. A photo of my parents and brother. A photo of the family dog wearing a straw hat. A pile of media passes hanging from lanyards on a push pin (hint to what field I'm in).

My desk was also disorganized as hell. My work laptop was half buried in papers, folders and tapes. DVDs in and out of their cases were strewn about.

I remember taking a deep breath and sitting down in the rolly work chair, attempting to process the fact that I had to "move out."

I wasn't angry (yet), I was shell shocked. I attempted to apply some logic.

"Well" I thought "This is happening everywhere."

I began to wax philosophic, considering the myth of permanence and the acceptance of life in constant stasis.

"Our body's cells die and experience a rebirth on a constant basis. Our molecules are always moving. Bouncing and changing. Permanence is the great myth. Comfort is a false premise. Stability is an idea, built on a foundation of cloud matter."

And so, as I took down my office decor, I allowed myself to see the big picture and find some solace in that.

My officemate/friend returned a short while later. He was not totally surprised, but he seemed genuinely bummed out.

"They came to get you?" he said "While I was taking a piss??? That's not cool!"

"Yeah" I replied "Don't think they were taking your whereabouts into consideration."

Several employees who I thought could care less about my being laid off appeared in my office, tears welling. Others, who joked around with me on a daily basis and seemed to enjoy working with me, were nonchalant and seemingly apathetic about the whole affair. I think they were just glad it wasn't them.

And so, instead of a box, I opted for a bag (a couple of bags, actually). I had to leave the work laptop and various other items that I used at work and home. Not only do they take your job, your pay and your benefits away from you, but they also take anything you used that they paid for.

I would not have been surprised if they had torn my clothes from me, hosed me off with a jet of ice cold water and tossed me out in the street. I mean, they indirectly paid for my clothes.

Instead, like some twisted anti-Santa, I lugged my bulky sacks out into the main office area, said quick goodbyes to those I liked and exited.

Next stop: Vodka-ville!

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