A Reckoning and a Mystery

Last week, I was called into Recruiting Company 1 where I'd contracted for Really Big Pharma. I had to turn in my/their laptop and mostly to have a discussion about What Happened.

Properly tranked down, I showed up as directed and met in person and conference call with my recruiter and some guy I'd never met before. I handed over the laptop. I sat down and the inevitable question arose, what happened?

I related that I had shown up at work, was working on a document when the RBP manager showed up at the corral door and asked to have a little convo with me. We met in what once had been a printer room. There was no door, but no need to shut it because I knew this was going to be a brief conversation.

RBP Manager sighed and said, "You know this isn't working out. I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go." Like, today. Like, right now. Like, this very minute.

We went back to my work space (that's what you get these days, not a cubicle - oh for the days of the cube farm! - but a work space, a desk space of maybe 2 x 3 feet). He had the good grace not to watch me pack up my few belongings. At the security desk, he shook hands, took my ID badge, and I rolled out the front door, my head swimming. It didn't take long to clear up.

So this I related in plainer terms to the recruiter and the stranger. I started off by saying, "First of all, 95% of the conversation was in Hindi." A buzz like an electric shock generated through the air. I knew why. This was a hostile work place that I'd been dropped into and they knew it. The big question was whether or not I would sue anybody about it. No, I'm not. I know black lists exist and I don't want to get myself on one.

Well, what else? I was rarely given assignments and when I did, I got feedback on one, count 'em, one document in the space of three months. I elaborated about other complexities of life at RBP.

I asked the question that was most on my mind: Was I considered fired?

No, no, no, they hurriedly said. "We'll be on the lookout for other jobs for you." Yeah. And the moon is made of cheese.

This means that they have to approve my unemployment claim and I wish they'd hop on that right quick.

In the meantime, there is the mystery of what am I going to do with myself? Suddenly technical writing ads come with things like "must be familiar with taxonomies and (software I've never heard of)".

I'm trying to establish a schedule for myself and so far, I've met with wobbly success. I've returned to the local Barnes & Noble knitters/crocheters group on Monday mornings. I try to go to Mass most mornings. One bad thing is that I spend the afternoons hiding in You Tube history documentaries. I was watching murder/solved murder shows but the world is full enough of evil. I'm having middling success with staying on my meds.

The cats, especially Toby, are very grateful to have me around. Toby has become my cat and I love that.

But I'd love it better if I had a job.