Last month I posted this update on Facebook:
“I work for two executives. One of them resigned yesterday. The other one resigned this morning. Neither of them knew the other was resigning. The question is, will *I* continue to have a job.”
It’s weird, you know? I was hired 2 years ago to support them and now they’re both gone. Their new jobs are based on relationships vs. interviewing, which is a way of saying it’s a dream job come true for them. So I was left without a boss.
When human resources called me a couple days later, she was yawning when I answered my line. I hoped that was a good sign and not a sign that she’s let so many people go that she now finds the whole process of termination a bore.
Thankfully, it was the former. She merely wanted to let me know that they had no plans to terminate me and that I should prepare myself for interviewing internally and, in the meantime, I should enjoy my easy days. Each of those sentences are direct quotes from our conversation, although not in one run-on sentence like I wrote it.
“Enjoy my easy days?” I muttered to myself as I left her office. She doesn’t know me very well. I turned on my heel and marched myself over to one of the people who I hoped would be my next boss and got on his calendar for later that afternoon.
I spent 15 minutes convincing him that I would be an asset to him and the following Monday I spoke to my other next boss. It felt good to take the initiative, secure my next position, maintain some continuity on my resume and ignore human resources’ directive to enjoy my easy days.
These days, and especially the situation my family is currently in, I can’t afford to risk riding the gravy train.
Jammie J's Quest 