One month
It has now been one month since that day. One month and a day, actually. The day was a Monday, I was on the phone with a very uncooperative annuity company, when I heard some murmuring from the other side of my cube. I stood up, as my cube is tall, and could only see a couple of guys in suits going into the boss' office. The boss came to my cube, and told me we are having a meeting. I tried to put him off temporarily, as this call was nigh impossible to connect, but he insisted. Upon reaching his office, I saw that the suits were his boss' boss, and that guy's boss. They didn't look happy to see us. Understated as I am, I said "This doesn't look like good news", to which bossx3 replied "No, it's not." Apparently Citigroup, a company that drove it's stock price down from $60 to $18 a share needed to cut some corners. We knew it had been happening, but we were safe, of course. The Trust company was only 220 people out of 320,000 Citi employees, and we only deal with High Net Worth clients. Besides that, our office of 5 administered over 700 accts, the fastest growing trust office in the country; in comparison the Palm Beach office with 10 employees only had 600, and complained of being overworked. We were very busy, but in danger of being cut? Impossible.
Possible, apparently. They closed the Sarasota trust office, that day, and sent us away; stunned, baffled, angry, upset and very sad. This was it, I was told. The job that will lead to great advancement, long-term security, and a corner office. Never have I worked with a crew so amiable, nor known a boss so indistinguishable from my friends that we shared our hobbies openly; he too a re-enactor, hockey lover and all-around good guy. All of us dedicated to the clients, to the company that feels no loyalty, kicking my eleven years of service to the curb like an unwelcome guest.
I seek no sympathy; you're my friends so I know you feel badly. I just needed to write it down, as I've spent the past month and one day trying to put aside the feelings of uselessness and fear. I've applied for quite a few jobs; mostly financial institutions, based on my work experience, but I've found something I didn't expect. I knew it would be depressing applying for drab banking jobs, but I saw a few education-related positions; a financial officer here, registrar there, and it brought back all the feelings and ideals I had so long ago, when I still had ideals, and wanted to teach children. I saw a nearby school of the arts, K-12, that needed a registrar, and I was truly excited, just as I felt crushed to receive the e-mail notifying me that the job had been filled already.
I'd always professed that it wasn't for the money, but circumstance put me in a vocation that flies in the very face of that sentiment.
Everyone tells me things happen for a reason. I usually reply that reasons are not inherently good, there are bad reasons for events. One ramification of taking the job last year is that we are in a house that we love completely. Perhaps a repercussion of this might be the recovery of my soul.
Possible, apparently. They closed the Sarasota trust office, that day, and sent us away; stunned, baffled, angry, upset and very sad. This was it, I was told. The job that will lead to great advancement, long-term security, and a corner office. Never have I worked with a crew so amiable, nor known a boss so indistinguishable from my friends that we shared our hobbies openly; he too a re-enactor, hockey lover and all-around good guy. All of us dedicated to the clients, to the company that feels no loyalty, kicking my eleven years of service to the curb like an unwelcome guest.
I seek no sympathy; you're my friends so I know you feel badly. I just needed to write it down, as I've spent the past month and one day trying to put aside the feelings of uselessness and fear. I've applied for quite a few jobs; mostly financial institutions, based on my work experience, but I've found something I didn't expect. I knew it would be depressing applying for drab banking jobs, but I saw a few education-related positions; a financial officer here, registrar there, and it brought back all the feelings and ideals I had so long ago, when I still had ideals, and wanted to teach children. I saw a nearby school of the arts, K-12, that needed a registrar, and I was truly excited, just as I felt crushed to receive the e-mail notifying me that the job had been filled already.
I'd always professed that it wasn't for the money, but circumstance put me in a vocation that flies in the very face of that sentiment.
Everyone tells me things happen for a reason. I usually reply that reasons are not inherently good, there are bad reasons for events. One ramification of taking the job last year is that we are in a house that we love completely. Perhaps a repercussion of this might be the recovery of my soul.