It’s common knowledge in softwareland that when you are going to be let go, the first thing they do is block your connection to the network. So when you try to login, it says your password is incorrect.
Imagine my surprise when I went to login Wednesday morning only to find my password was denied.
I sat frozen in my cube for about a minute trying to comprehend what had just happened. Instantly, I assumed I typed it wrong. So I entered it again. And again and again and again and again.
About the 193rd time I tried my password, Jess walked by and looked at me with horror.
Fuck!
I tried to enter my password another 200 times and by that time I was blinking pretty rapidly to hold back the tears. All this happened within about four minutes.
Then Jess came back.
“Mark’s gone.”
“What?”
“His cube is empty.”
“What?”
By this time the evil munchkin had joined us at my cube. Then Joe came over and leaned in close.
“They are doing layoffs today,” he whispered.
“I can’t get into the network,” I said with a quiver in my voice, “it’s saying my password is wrong.”
Jess and Joe’s faces crumbled. If I ever have to see that look again, it will be entirely too soon for me. They both hightailed it out of my cube and I sat stunned wondering what I should do.
I sat silently in my cube fighting back tears and waiting for someone to come and get me, to bring me into an office and give me my walking papers. But nobody came.
With shaky legs, I wandered over to the Information Services department. Nobody was there except the Director. I popped my head into his office.
“Chris, I can’t log into the network.” I was super proud that I didn’t cry.
Chris gave me a funny look and got up to head over to my cube with me. He sat at my desk to see if he couldn’t figure out what the problem was. I whispered my password and he typed it in.
It didn’t work.
He gave me another funny look.
“Is there something they need to tell me?” I asked closer to crying than I had been all morning.
“No,” he said shaking his head.
I think the entire company heard my sigh of relief. Chris went off to solve my problem and returned about five minutes later.
“Ok, you’re gonna have to change your password,” he said. “Try to login.”
“Yes!’ I shouted as it worked. “Thank you! You are officially my favorite person today.”
“Today?”
“Yes, just today. Don’t press your luck.”
Of course in a company of 126 (now sans 16 employees) news spreads fast.
Bonnie came over.
“Are you still here?”
“Yes,” I said, “I am. The password thing was a fluke.”
“There were 16.”
“Holy Shit!”
Around 11:30 the CEO called a company meeting. As we all trundled into giant meeting room, Abe walked up next to me.
“Jodi!” he said rubbing my shoulder. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“Well, I’m glad to see you too!”
“Uriel said your password wasn’t working. We all thought you were done.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Of course, my password snafu seemed to provide some much needed humor to the day. A lot of people stopped by to joke about it with me. News like that travels fast in our tiny company.
It was a bleak and black day, Wednesday. This is the second round of layoffs, and I’ve made the cut each time.
As much as I like to complain about work, I’m never so happy to be there on days like Wednesday. A lot of my friends drove into work that morning and left shortly after jobless.
It’s just so harsh. It’s almost like a death in the family. You start talking about people in the past tense, in hushed whispers it’s eerie. And sadly, nothing seems to bring the survivors together like a layoff.
The worst part of it all is that my best friend was in LA for her sister’s wedding. I still don’t think she knows. She missed the first round back in November, because she was moving.
So here’s where I’ll be all day, sitting by the phone waiting to tell her the news.