Things never happen quite like you expect them to. I was sitting patiently at my desk the other day when my supervisor stopped by and asked if I wanted to go grab some coffee with him and check in on things. Work’s been slow lately. I was relieved to have something to do. The company’s been trying to move me into a new department. Like I said, my sales copy hasn’t been pulling quite as well as some of the other writers’. But this transition hasn’t been the smoothest in terms of flow.
We stopped by Starbucks and sat down at a table in the park amid our office complex. “I might take tomorrow off,” I’d been telling my supervisor. “I have a bunch of things to take care of before Cora and I go out of town this weekend.”
“That’s cool. Where are you guys going again?” he asked.
“This cabin in Southwest Virginia. Past Charlottesville, I’m not sure where. Should be pretty cool – remote, isolated. A chance just to get out and relax. Things have been pretty hectic here lately.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said.
This is the same man who told me two months ago I might be losing my job at the end of the summer. Not a week before this conversation, though, he’d amended that statement to say I was good for at least another month or so while the company’s higher ups decided if I was a good fit for this newest position. That was a relief even though I’d already started looking for a new job. It’s always nice to have a paycheck… especially when you aren’t sure any longer when your next one might come through.
He went on, “So I was just talking to Kat.” Kat was the manager of the team I’d been in the process of moving to. “And she says she needs a writer with more design experience than you have.”
“Okay,” I said, “What’s that mean for me?”
“It means what we talked about,” my supervisor said. “You’re gone.”
I looked around at the sun reflecting off metal chairs, scintillating across concrete and blinding my pale eyes. I squinted. “Okay. When’s my last day, then?”
“Today,” he answered.