I know I’ve been off the boards a while. It’s just that this Toaster’s real life has gotten a bit complicated as of late. Gotta love this economy.
Some backstory:
Both my wife and I work* in advertising in Boston.
A week before Christmas (the day after their Christmas party) my wife’s ad agency had layoffs. This organization that prided itself on “being a family”, upon laying someone off (some having worked there 6 years or more) would walk them back to their desks and give them 5 minutes to clear out their stuff. They even canned some people over the phone.
Well, we were on vacation out of state at the time and the whole day my wife was getting panicky emails from her co-workers at ground zero giving her updates as to who was next to go, and concerned emails from people outside the agency who had heard whispers through the grapevine and were asking for information.
All these conversations were happening over her work email.
WARNING! Don’t ever do this! No matter how concerned you are for them, don’t email out any listing of who got laid off using that company’s email. Not to concerned friends, not to potential employers, nowhere!
So a little more than 2 weeks ago my wife is called into HR and told that someone on the list she emailed was not happy to have been on said list, and that the agency could no longer trust her. *Mentioning something about a confidentiality agreement in the fine print of papers she signed when she took the job, they fired her. Not laid off, fired. No severance. No unemployment. Just the door.
No real leads in the past couple weeks means that we have 2 weeks left (9 working days) for her to find at least a really strong lead, one worth the gamble of going into more debt to stay on an extra month, or we’ll have to move out of our cozy apartment.
Meaning, my wife and our beautiful 2-year old daughter would move in with her mom in Syracuse NY, aprox. 5 hrs away, while I would be commuting from my dad’s place in NH to MA and back every day by train, and driving to NY every weekend.
The hardest part isn’t the unfairness or humiliation, the pain of moving our crap into 2 separate locations, or the prospective loneliness and monotony. Every day when I get home, my little girl lets out the most celebratory “Daddy home! Daddy home!”. Honestly, I’m pretty sure it’s the best part of her day (Mine too, but that’s beside the point). The hardest part is knowing that she will have been robbed of time with her dad, and that she won’t understand why.
It’s taken a couple of weeks for me to be able to mention that without tearing up.
Anyway, Others have it worse. We still have 2 weeks, a workable if not attractive fallback plan, and hope. That and the knowledge that the time apart would only be temporary. And anyway, the daily commute could theoretically give me 2 hrs a day to focus on my illustration, while the 10 hrs in the car on the weekends could be filled with podcast and audiobook goodness. (I’m ripping Gaiman’s 10 CD Neverwhere as I type this.)
And thanks guys. Sorry to burden you with this extended sob story, but I just needed to get it off my chest.