On Tuesday, I had a job. On Wednesday, I did not.
I knew it was coming, but not for a few months. Recent budget cuts had me worrying that at some point, staff cuts were not far off. When I asked about layoffs, I got a tentative timeline, and started to casually look for another job. “I’ve got time,” I thought. “I can look for something else and hope it’s as good as this.”
We always think we have more time.
But on Tuesday, when the CEO video-conferenced in to tell me they had to let me go, I cried. With her looking away from the camera to hold back tears, and my editor, God bless him, doing the same in front of me, I slowly wept. It was over.
They told me they did everything they could, and I’m sure they mean it. These are people who attended my wedding, who bought me birthday gifts, who told me that when my Grandma got cancer, I could work around her chemo treatment to be with her. They are good people. I know this.
But in that moment, when they’re telling me that I had a job and now I don’t, I stopped listening to their praises and their endorsements. I immediately thought, What did I do to deserve this?
When I recount those moments in my head, I often wonder if I did enough. Did I work hard? Did I do my job to the best of my ability? Did I go above and beyond the call of duty? My boss, in the three years of my employment and even the hours since my dismissal, has said yes to all of these questions without my asking. In the days since, friends and family have told me, This is not your fault. I’m sure the mean it.
They can tell me to look for a job, they can tell me to save every penny, to pick up freelance work and to never stop hustling. But they can’t tell me how to feel when someone tells me that I am jobless. Much like a break-up, there was a lot of “it’s not you, it’s me,” and “you’ll get picked up before you know it.” But that doesn’t change the feeling you get when you get laid off.
Most startups fail. I knew this when I took the job three years ago. But I also knew that no job, in any profession, is ever guaranteed, whether that company has existed for 10 days or 10 months or 10 years or 100 years.
Ideally, you work in a place because you believe in the work you do and the company you do that great work for. It’s not common for anyone to enjoy every moment of their job, and I’m not the exception to this. But I did adore the company I worked for and the people I worked with. I loved the job I got to do every day. I know I am a better writer and editor because of the three years I worked at a failing startup.
I spent many years working for jobs that sucked less than the last one until I found one that sucked a lot less than most anything. But I know without any of those jobs, I wouldn’t be anything. I’m thankful even for the shitty jobs, as they made me patient, diligent, and professional. It made the next job that much easier to do. In whatever comes next, I know I’ll be better than I was before.
It’s hard to go from always doing something to doing almost nothing in a matter of days. Since Tuesday, I’ve had many moments sitting at my computer, walking my dog, or even making dinner where I’m left wondering if I’m missing something. You see, aside from this great job I loved, I also freelance and volunteer. There were very few off moments. Now there are nothing but many off moments strung together. That’s what unemployment feels like.
