Quite Curious

It was Monday morning, around 10am. I was listening to the Beatles on my headphones, and completely immersed in some Flash work - when I looked up and saw that the room was empty and my creative director urgently telling me there’s a company meeting in one of our other buildings. I thought, “That’s weird. Our staff meeting isn’t scheduled until Thursday, and we never have meetings in the other building.” Whatever. It was probably some project I just got put on, or an update on our insurance policy.

I was the first to arrive in the conference room, and waited for a few minutes for the others to file in. Not everyone arrived. The founder of the company came in, and he got right to the point. He gravely announced,

I’m afraid this isn’t a good meeting. The people you see in this room are the ones that will continue working here. Everyone else will be packing up their things and leaving in a few hours.

I looked frantically around the room, choking back tears. The more I thought about who wasn’t there, the lower my heart sank. And once I realized that almost no one from my design team was there, I almost couldn’t take it anymore.

There was a short session of questions that followed, and then a solemn walk back to the building I worked in. While I was in that awful meeting, there was an even worse meeting that went on at the same time, in my building. You can guess which one that is.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked in. I saw my team members there, quietly packing up, some crying. Hugs, emails, and wishes were exchanged. It was incredibly difficult. And after a few hours, they were gone.

A rollercoaster ride

The cut was hard, and deep. It was across the board - it included project managers, administrative staff, developers, designers, even our one receptionist. The problem with becoming friends with those you work with is that you don’t know what to do when they’re no longer there. I miss everyone a lot.

It’s been a rollercoaster ride since I’ve started working here as an intern. My parents felt bad for me to graduate at such an awful time but I feel lucky to have graduated just one year before the economy really tanked…and what a difference that made. It feels like many of my friends are unemployed.

As a startup company, we grew exponentially, and I found myself meeting new people every week. I’ve moved into three different buildings, and moved desks seven times. I’ve grown a lot with the company, and said goodbye to some great people. I really do feel that above everything, it’s the people that really make your job worthwhile. I’d be friends with any of them if I never met them at work. It’s that awesome.

The cut was 10-15% (I’m not sure the exact number), but since I’ve started here, my design team has suffered the worst - about 50%. I used to share my room with five other talented, rockstar designers. Two were laid off months ago, and three were laid off this week. (So yes, I’m the last, non-senior designer left standing.)

It’s unbelievable. The designers that were laid off were people I never thought we could do without. They were members that made a well-rounded team. I always had someone to go to for questions about the printing process, someone to ask about Flash development, and someone to always run conceptual ideas by. I worked with them so often, and relied on them so much for help, that it feels so empty when they’re no longer there. One of those people was my classmate, roommate, neighbor, and co-worker (in that order), and it’s strange not seeing him everyday.

The creative team last year. Just three of us in this photo are still working in this office.

What I’m doing now

It has been a crazy week. I’ve been file-hunting on other computers, going to too many meetings, answering the door, and writing lots, and lots of sympathy emails and job recommendations on LinkedIn. I wish I could do more for people, but I can only do so much. I wish there were more jobs available right now.

Do I feel lucky to be saved from the cut? No. I know I’ve been spared for a reason, although I haven’t the slightest idea of what that is. Sure I’m doing the right things - I work hard, receive decent reviews, get things done. But so has everyone else. I suppose the smart thing to do is keep doing whatever it is I’m doing - but I can’t. I’m scared, and the only way I feel I’m going to survive in this stupid economy is to continue on with whatever it is I’m doing right, but with even more effort. I’ll be working harder, staying a bit longer after work, and staying as positive as I can. It’s might be exhausting, but it’s the best that I can do.

I know I can’t constantly worry about things like this, it doesn’t help in the long run. I’m fortunate enough to have great upper management at my company, and I feel comfortable talking about any issues to any of the directors, partners, even the CEO himself. Everyone has been very open and sincere. As much as there’s more challenges that are going to come hurling to me at a hundred miles a minute, so are the new opportunities, and I’m looking forward to taking them head on.

I’ll be moving soon to somewhere with lower rent, and most likely be working out of our San Francisco office. I’m going to keep my head straight, and my spirits up. It’s crazy how things change so fast. I miss everyone so much.