So the last couple days have been shitty at work. Wait. Let me refine that:

Shitty

Ah, how firm and absolute words are when you capitalize them.

Wednesday, last week, I was informed that I would have to let one of the design team go in my department (new readers to Dead Robot should know I’m a team leader of a graphics department at a large-ish travel wholesaler). I wasn’t surprised by this. A constant barrage of bad news nightly consisting of economic doom and gloom steeled me to this event. I have watched the company’s website hits drop off and I knew that translated to a slump in sales. Plus the fact that the owner would walk the halls of the office with a face like a cat’s ass.

I made my recommendations as to each staff’s workloads, attitude and abilities and then left it with upper management to decide. Not to be a martyr but I even suggested my position be shitcanned, which was met with a “We’ve invested too much in you” kind of comment. Nice! The next day, Thursday, I was told which would be leaving, but they’d be let go on Monday, in the morning. Whuh? Not Friday? I shrugged and then asked if I could be present for the despicable conversation. I then spend the next couple days pretending to be upbeat and happy while inside, I knew we were letting go one of the more funner people in the department.

Just before Xmas.

Yeah.

A hero is me.

Monday comes and I am working hard and didn’t notice the unlucky person getting called away into the marketing manager’s office – people are in and out of our cube constantly so I missed them walking past my desk. When they came out of the manager’s office, freshly unemployed, I didn’t notice them grab one co-worker and leave the cube. Frankly it happened so quick I thought they were discussing something over a smoke-break.

The manager then calls me into their office and informs me that they had done the deed and all was ok. As “ok” as can be.

I stammered. “You did it already?”

I leave the office and find this person already gone. No goodbye, no explanations, not even a look in the eye.

I wasn’t happy.

Then an hour later we are informed by email that our company has applied for “WorkShare”, a little known mini-bail out package where most of the staff drops to a 4 day work week with their wage adjusted appropriately. Staff then can claim some measly percentage in Employment Insurance back (I’ve always laughed at the doubleplusgood think of the name of our UNemployment insurance program), something like 55% of the day’s wages. While it’s not much, I bless the socialist lefty that thought that program up. However, I am unable to work part time and claim it, creating an almost English DHSS-style catch 22. If I work part time, I don’t get EI, but I get taxed to the same level as the EI benefit. I don’t work I get EI and play video games and generally not contribute to anything other than a Homer Simpson-esque rut in the couch.

So with two swift kick to the nuts I am left with less money, a demoralized staff who weren’t all that moralized in the first place and an opportunity to work at Starbucks one day a week.

Yay global economy!