CATCH UP

"Catch Up" appeared in my diary. A meeting request. From HR. A meeting request, from HR, with my manager.

Uh oh. That's the post-covid equivalent of 'Can we have a word?' isn't it? 

It's not a social call, not a 'how's your house move going', not even a catch up about products and progress.

No. As everyone in every office everywhere knows implicitly, this kind of ‘catch up’ is a 'you're in trouble'… and it communicated exactly that to me, for most of the day. Unfortunately most of the day was also at the hospital with Sammy. Don’t worry - she’s fine. I was worried though.

Dan from HR pursed his lips and steepled his fingers. He looked sombre. Neil looked grey. We’d kicked off nice and amicably (how’s the house move, is your wife okay) and then inevitably, Dan segued into what he described with a pause as, ‘a potentially difficult conversation'.

I knew what followed.

The words came thick and fast: ‘change of direction’, ‘budgets’, ‘unfortunately that means’ and ‘at risk’. The conversation swirled liked mixing paint colours. He read a statement. My head was woozy. Neil just listened, as silent as granite. I was being warned that my job was about to be made redundant. Dan was coming into land and it would shortly be my turn to say something.

You know those moments when you have to speak, when the spotlight falls on you and you realise your next few words could be life-changing? Fight or flight becomes gabble or freeze. Where to start? But I suddenly knew I couldn’t freeze. I needed the paint to stop swirling. I breathed in.

“Well,” I said, steeling myself for the gabble, “I’ve got lots of questions. And lots of things to say…”

I was off. I thanked them for chatting with me. I was gathering my thoughts but I told them I appreciated it, and then I pointed out everything anyone would have pointed out if it meant there was a fresh scintilla of hope of saving their job. I asked them candidly whether it was linked to any poor performance, or perception of my performance, and I passionately reinforced that it would be honourable to be honest if it were. (He said not).

I asked about whether anyone else was affected, exactly why the business thought it could do without a technical author, and I tried hard to prove to them that it was a backwards step, without it sounding too much like a plea for a lifeboat.

I don’t think a lifeboat is coming my way, whether I plead for it or not. I’ll find out for sure on Thursday when the final decision is made. I said thanks at the end, for taking the time to chat this through with me. It would have been horrible in an email, or a letter out of the blue.

And then the catch-up ended. I sat there for a while just breathing. I slipped the hot headphones off my ears and let them slide onto my shoulders.

It’s such a strange feeling. There’s fear for sure, and that’s what makes these things ‘difficult’ conversations for the likes of Dan in HR. There’s worry, there’s sadness that you’re being asked to leave. There is actually quite a lot of relief, believe it or not, which you can read in any way you choose. The overwhelming feeling though, the one that’s hardest, is rejection. It’s an uphill battle fighting that one off.

So then, this becomes part of the Unsettling Adventure - dealing with a little rejection and a very uncertain future. They were kind enough to say they knew the timing was bad. I used the word lousy. I think both are understating it.

I’m okay about it. We’re okay about it - Sammy’s brilliantly calm and focused in these kind of situations. And so spiritual! I think it’s one of those difficulties that’s an opportunity in disguise. I wonder what doors might open next. I do want to stay thankful and hopeful.