Breaking Wind 4 - The Final Blowback

April Fools' Day came one day early for me last week.

On the afternoon of March 31st, I went into the office of my immediate supervisor, whom we shall now refer to as Bipolar, to discuss a task with her. While giving me the information I needed, she casually mentioned the fact that this was my last week. I was stunned for a couple reasons. For one, I was told by my recruiter that the assignment would last until May. For another, I was essentially given three days notice. I would have thought that professional courtesy would have dictated at least one week's notice, if not even two, for that length of an assignment.

My manager, for whom I have no witty nickname, approached my cubicle a little later and confirmed that I was being let go because there was "no more work" for me and indirectly apologized for the short notice by alluding to the fact that things had been "crazy" around there. I was a bit confused at this point as things certainly looked "crazy" for Bipolar who still seemed bogged down with work. Curiously enough, when I called my recruiter at the end of the day, her version of the story was that during a budget meeting, my manager discovered that she had less to work with than she thought. So I was therefore the "odd temp out". I'm more inclined to believe the recruiter.

While I was disappointed, I also was a bit relieved. The reason why I call Bipolar "Bipolar" is that one day she could be friendly, even chummy, but the next day, or even the next moment, she could go from hot to cold, especially if a mistake was made (by myself or others) that seemed to inconvenience her. Nonetheless, I was determined to make the best of my last three days.

By about noon on Wednesday, I had finished my latest task and Bipolar suggested that I go to lunch. And so I did. Five minutes later, she comes over with a new task she asked for me to complete before she returned from lunch herself. Wanting to keep the instructions fresh in my mind, I interrupt my lunch to finish the task which took about a half hour. I then return to eating lunch and surfing the 'Net in my cubicle, keeping an eye and ear out for Bipolar, who usually returns to to her office by going by my desk. Time had admittedly slipped away and around 1:45, Bipolar popped up on me mid-surf and asked if I was still on lunch. I responded that I had completed the assignment she gave me during lunch, thinking she'd catch the hint that I had literally nothing else to do beyond working on my thumb-twiddling skills. Instead, she admonished me loudly in front of my other cube-mates, advising me to account for the "extra" break time on my timesheet. So basically because of her own lack of efficiency, I was going to loose a quarter hour's worth of pay. At that point, I was through with being friendly, through with being proactive... I was just through.

Fast forward (I wish I could have at the time) to Friday afternoon when I'm packing up my things. Everyone in the department was polite to cordial as I exchanged goodbyes with them. Bipolar had stepped out to the kitchen area next door which I was thinking was probably for the best. But when she returned and saw me put my jacket on, I figured I could be professional and endure ten seconds of mild discomfort... except that she proceeded to go into the office of an associate and shut the door behind her. That pretty much summed up our working relationship in a nutshell.

In retrospect, Cathy helped me to see that Bipolar definitely had some issues that she projected onto me. She definitely reminded me of a certain family member who deflected responsibilty, albeit less brazenly, for her own mistakes regarding me. It may have been that inefficiency - and perhaps inability to show quantifiable results to my manager, that caused Bipolar to lose her help just when she may have needed it the most. If there is truly such a thing as karma, it hit her at the beginning of this week as I know that Bipolar had to deal with the annual arrival of the auditors without anyone to offload work on or to assist her.

At least Robocop managed to loosen up over the last couple weeks, greeting me with a smile and a "What's up, Man?" virtually every morning. He's so anxious to jump ship himself, the client may be lucky to get three days' notice themselves.

Ironically, I found out that White Chocolate grew up in the area where Cathy and I used to live, graduating from the neighborhood high school. It's too bad I didn't get to know him a little better. Not only could we have compared notes on the past and present in his old 'hood, I also think him and the similarly large lady I saw in one of his desk pictures may have enjoyed attending a NAAFA fundraiser.

I got along with Ho Chi Minh the best, but then he gets along with everyone well. He'll be the one most likely to get a permanent job there... until, of course, they pull the rug out from under him like they did for me. I do hope that he finds the man of his dreams, though.

I'll miss working for a company whose cause I believed in. I'll miss the prestige, such as it is, of working in downtown DC just a few blocks from the White House. And, of course, I'll miss the paycheck. I definitely won't miss the longer commute, albeit still short by DC standards. I won't miss working a half-hour longer than my previous job which, combined with the commute, made my evenings a lot shorter.

And, needless to I won't miss Bipolar's crazy @$$.

"The answer, my friend
Is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind...."