worst week

A few months ago I wrote an entry about how everything was good. Comfortable, easy going, decent. I made an off-hand comment that something would likely come along in the next week that would tear it all to shit again.

I was off on the timing.  It took a few months.  But first...

A week ago Friday, I got hit by a beer truck.  I was crossing the street trying to catch a bus, the truck was making a right turn on red at a blind corner.  I didn't see him, he didn't see me.  Fortunately, he wasn't going very fast and was able to hit the brakes before driving over me.  I was knocked off my feet, hit my head on the pavement and started bleeding.  It was all very scary, especially in light of Natasha Richardson's fatal accident. An ambulance came and I spent the afternoon in the ER. CT scan was clear, and I was released with a handful of prescriptions. Muscle relaxant, pain killer, anti-inflammatory.  I couldn't rotate my head for two days, but made a gradual recovery, and following a visit with a chiropractor, recuperated to full capacity once again!  It was a scare, to say the least, but I'm OK... and much more aware of traffic as a result!

My boss took a pre-planned leave of absence for the month of April. She's pregnant, and needed to get a few things taken care of before the baby pops out in August.  Her attitude evolved over the past few weeks, first doubting that she would return... and gradually realizing she'd go nuts if she didn't come back.  I don't blame her, and I'm OK with the plan.  I rather have her as my boss than anyone else.

So, April 1 comes around, and I take the reins.  Job duties have been neatly split up and we're ready to go. The first day goes beautifully. And then...

April 2. The second day of running the facility, I am ambushed with a few bits of news. My company is 'cleaning up its portfolio.'  The scuttlebutt is we're being prepped for sale... which is not surprising, actually. It's been floated many times before. Then, a call from my vice president.

Cutbacks. Layoffs... massive ones. Barely had I moved to my new desk, and now I must cut my workforce back by 50-75%. The scope of cutbacks is dangerous. The facility is huge. Every bit of my staff is necessary. Some do not do very good work, of course, but when I had enough to remove them from their posts, I would still replace them. As I try to figure out the best possible configuration, I realize -- none of it is going to work.

And it all falls

in

to

place.

My place of work will no longer exist in three months time (give or take).

Tomorrow, I am laying off five full time people.  I am cutting three full time employees to part time -- which in turn revokes their insurance and cuts their paychecks in half.  As a salaried employee, I will now be working 6 days a week, between 10 and 12 hours a day, and picking up the slack until my boss returns. Instead of doing two people's jobs, I am now doing four people's jobs.

They are trying to force a profit on an unprofitable revenue center to improve the look of the company on paper to prospective buyers. They have forgotten that the reason why the facility has become unprofitable is that it has been allowed to fall into disrepair over the course of the last seven years. A $120,000 repair to the HVAC system was rejected three times over the last three years.  During the winter I have walked into the building where the temperature inside was colder than it was outside.  And with Atlanta summer fast approaching...forget it.

I get it now. Force the profit to make it look good on paper.  Then, new owners will close the facility and write it off as an acquisition loss because the scope of repairs is now too great to invest (to do a complete, full restoration will now likely fall in the million dollar range. That's how long it's been, and how bad it has become. There was only so much I could do).

And now I am laying off people -- good people in most cases -- without so much as payment on a two week notice, or severance package, or anything being offered. In some cases, it's dedicated employees who have been there for five to ten years.  And I know that when my time comes, it will be the exact same treatment.

I must strike first. Time for a new job.

I'm so disappointed... I really felt like I could have made something out of this. And I now will never get the chance. It was a pretty good three years, followed by a rotten six months. And I have no idea where to turn next.