Good Day/Bad Day

Good Day: I left for work a little after 8:30, relatively on time for a change. The sun was shining with nary an anxiety-induced dizzy spell in sight, and despite rumors of layoffs today in my department, I was feeling good. Strangely good. Awake, if that makes any sense.

Bad Day: I get in a little after nine, and over the cubicle wall hear the first of my co-workers get called in to her boss' office.

Good Day: My friend Rey, who's usually there before me but wasn't, shows up not long after me with cookies for our friend Harry's birthday. Under my desk were cookies I'd bought him the day before, and we take a walk down to his cubicle for snacks and reconnaissance.

Bad Day: Sure enough, the woman who'd been called earlier is sitting in her boss' office, and through the window she didn't look too happy.

Good Day: I discovered “Uh-oh!” Oreos.

Bad Day: My phone is ringing when I get back to my desk.

Good Day: It's only my mom, letting me know she and my dad have almost arrived safely at his doctor's. I can't tell her much of what's going on yet.

Bad Day: One of the first executive supervisors that I worked for is among the casualties.

Good Day: I check Digressions from the Omniverse and see that I'm #5000 and win....something.(It doesn't matter what; only the winning matters. Yes, I have a competitive problem, and I guarantee it's better than yours.)

Bad Day: My friend Curt, of The Happy Husband, sends an e-mail to myself, Rey and Jerry, letting us know that he's among the victims.

Bad Day: After offering our sympathies to our friend, Rey and I notice our supervisor's door is closed. We send Jerry to take a look and he reports back that he's in there with HIS supervisor.

Bad Day: Nearby, a pregnant girl gets up after being called to see her supervisor.

Bad Day: Back in our section, clusters of people are gathered, whispering, as people compare notes and the list grows. The rumor is that 22-25 people from our department will be cut, and we're barely over 10 by this point.

Bad Day: I go back to my cubicle, still in a stunned haze, to try and do some work even though I've found it impossible so far. My phone rings and I freeze. Slowly, I reach for it and after a pause, manage a weak, “Hello?”

Good Day: I hear the familiar raucous laughter of my mischievous friend Rey both on the phone and in his cubicle five feet behind me. Something inside snaps and action overwhelms contemplation, and the next thing I know, I've punched him hard in the back. In the twelve years I've known him he's occasionally commented how there are things I couldn't understand as an only child. In more ways than one, I think he's shown me what it would have been like to have had a brother.

Bad Day: He complains throughout the day that I hit him in a bad spot by his kidneys and it still hurts. At first I think he's joking and I still do, but there's enough of a seed of doubt that my conscience picks at me, as he knew it would.

Good Day: My supervisor's boss shows up and puts a hand on my shoulder, and let's me know that I'm safe.

Bad Day: She adds that she had to let my supervisor go. The body count grows.

Bad Day: The pregnant girl walks by crying. Word reaches us that the first supervisor I ever worked for in the company is now on the list. My friend Joe is called in to see his supervisor. An e-mail arrives for those who remain that a mandatory meeting has been scheduled for 12:30, my usual lunch time. We take careful note of which names aren't on the list of invitees.

Good Day: I stop by to see my boss, and let him know it was an honor to work with him. He's in good spirits about the whole thing and his wife has a pretty good job, so he'll be okay. I joke with him and my writer that we're the ones I'm worried about, but that's not far from the truth.

Bad Day: I get back to my desk and Rey asks where I was, that he went down to our bookstore and found the last copy of Firefly for a discounted price. A day prior, Curt had told me the same thing. On Curt's advice, I head down to ask the woman if there are more DVDs in the storage room. Normally I would accept my luck, sit down, and get back to work. Today was anything but a normal day, and I was anything but myself.

Good Day: She says there are plenty in the back and all people have to do is ask, because she doesn't put everything out if there isn't room.

Bad Day: We go to our meeting. There's not a happy face in the room. One of the executives comes in along with the head of our department and starts making jokes to lighten the mood. No one cracks a smile. He points out how this is a good thing and how the timing was perfect and it will help our business move forward. No one cracks a smile. He uses a lot of words like “clusters” and “paradigm” and while I know what they mean, I don't know what he means.

Good Day: Something snaps inside. My hand goes up after a few other people have asked questions, and I ask for clarification. I get more jargon and double talk but after the meeting as we're leaving, Rey complements my “cajones” and how my voice was firm and unwavering when I asked.

Bad Day: As we were told in the meeting, there are more meetings scheduled when we get back with smaller groups to discuss new work assignments.

Good Day: Ours isn't until 3:15, so we get to go to lunch, and give Curt a ride home since he didn't have a car today.

Good Day: I inherit a few Veggietales figures from Curt as well as some plastic sphere thing that collapses into a plastic star thing. He inherited it from one of his friends who was laid off a few years ago and it may be cursed. It might just be my ticket out of the factory.

Bad Day: We have our meeting. I have a brand new supervisor and while I'll still be designing the catalog for my club, I've inherited a second club. Supposedly the entire way we work is changing and people in another department will take on some of the administrative grunt work. They'll print pages, route folders, and make corrections, and “all” we have to do is design. Despite paper assurances, I have no idea how I'm going to handle this.

Good Day: Rey and I have an informal meeting with our supervisor's boss, whom neither of us will be reporting to anymore either under the new structure. She's frank and honest and while I can't share in a public forum anything that was said, we have some hope that things could have been worse, and may not be so bad. In theory. The reality is still sinking in.

Good Day: I meet informally with my new supervisor. He apologizes for the loss of my old one and promises to get me help with my workload, even if he does some work himself. He mentions having a meeting tomorrow and I point out that I had a vacation day which was already approved(by my old boss). He seems fine with that.

Bad Day: I get back to my desk and see he's scheduled the meeting for tomorrow. I'm not sure if I'm getting off on the wrong foot or not, but I reply to his e-mail that I'll talk to him Monday since I'm not here.

Good Day: My old boss comes by and tells me that my designs were always good, and always getting better, and he was happy with my work. He asks if I noticed that he had been asking me for less changes, and I had. I thank him for all he'd taught me and wish him well.

Good Day: I don't care about work anymore. It's not my life. My brain is bursting with ideas of things I can do, of eventually learning web design and starting to draw again and writing a book and making my own web comic. It's bursting with passions buried years ago, some not seen on the surface of my thoughts since college. I realize why I felt so good this morning. I was hoping to get laid off, to be forced to take a vacation, to have severance pay and time off to relax and then look for a new job. For a little while everything that mattered so much to me didn't matter as much anymore, and maybe I'd be able to let go of the ownership that plagues me and do as much as I can do, and no more.

Bad Day: As I'm unbuttoning my shirt in the gym, lights begin flashing as the fire alarm clangs loudly, louder than I've ever heard it. It's deafening, and doesn't stop after a few minutes. I put on my jacket and head outside, and wonder if I should just go home. As i wait out front, more and more people come out. Some were in the gym; others were still at work. The alarm keeps going. More people come out. In the distance sirens are heard, and a few people joke that a disgruntled employee may have lit a fire. Two trucks arrive and firemen in full gear run in with axes and tanks. I look up and imagine an explosion followed by a rain of bricks, and wonder why so many people don't take alarms seriously and stand a few feet away from the building instead of much further.

Good Day: The firemen confirm someone burned popcorn. I go to the gym and run the way i used to run months ago. I get nearly 3 miles done in a half hour, and my drive home goes by in the blink of an eye. I break all these stories to my parents who repeat the most shocking parts in incredulous tones. For a while, they don't believe me about my boss. My dad is glad I still have a job, and tells me not for the first time that this is why civil service jobs are so much better. The whole time I'm telling them the story my cat is nuzzling my hand, and I'm sure he senses the day I had. I have no appetite but have some pasta, and come to my room to blog. I break down the good and bad parts of a day that seems like a dream, despite me feeling more awake than I have in seven years. I read it over to make sure I haven't gone too much in to detail about anything that could get me in trouble for posting in public. I look forward to watching my Firefly DVDs, as well as a Metallica documentary and Ghost in the Shell 2. It's going to be a good three days.

I have no idea what Monday will be like.