I just got laid! (off)
My loyal fatasses (again, really hard to brand this fanbase). I apologize for the mini-radio silence you’ve had from me this week. Had a fun, but long weekend in South Carolina watching some ball, grilling some meats, and replacing most words with a cock pun.
As such, I was a bit out of it Monday, so no blog. Tuesday was pure laziness, no excuse there. Still, no blog. Then Wednesday happened. I woke up and hopped on a meeting my boss had scheduled the previous night at 10PM. Immediately, I knew something was off.
He quickly let me know that my position had been eliminated and your boy was out of a job.
A tough thing to hear, especially when I was dressed like this:
However, it was very well-handled by all involved. No ill will whatsoever between me and my now former employer. Good company, good people. End of the day, shit happens. That’s business, and that’s life. Have to look at it as an opportunity and move forward.
My boss stressed to me that my firing had nothing to do with performance at all. A nice platitude, though I expect me taking most morning meetings shirtless and failing to turn my camera off quickly enough had to play a role.
Probably also made his job slightly easier that I was late to the firing meeting due to a personal issue (overslept).
Regardless, the call ended and the reality set in: I was in need of full-time employment. However, a common mistake people make in my position is rushing back into something new just to be a “contributing member of society” or “build up their 401K” or have “comprehensive health insurance to deal with ankle swelling that I assume is the early stages of gout.”
No, no, no. Getting laid off, like grieving, is a process. And if you don’t allow yourself to go through that process, then you’ll never be full ready for when the next opportunity rolls around. As such, I must now experience the five stages of getting laid (off):
Stage 1: Shock
No matter how old you are, nothing can truly prepare you for an unexpected appearance from an HR rep on a Zoom call. That has literally never been good. No one from HR has ever hopped on a call and been like “surprise, you’re promoted! I wanted to give you the news in person.”
No, it’s usually something more like, “George, we need to talk about the surprisingly well-furnished lounge area you built in the storage closet so you can nap between meetings.” Whatever, that lounge was sick.
Anyways, I was definitely shocked when I first heard the news. I spent the morning in sort of a dreamlike state that definitely had nothing to do with the fact that I was awake until 4AM watching a B-level tv series about vampires.
Stage 2: Play it off with humor
Great tip for any youngsters out there: NEVER show that you have feelings. Bury everything underneath twelve layers of sarcasm. That’s what my therapist taught me. Well, I think that’s what she said while she was interrupting my 45-minute standup routine.
I wasn’t devastated or sad or anything, but a layoff shakes you up a bit. So you have to go into immediate defensive mode. My roommate Slick came in and did the “it’s not your fault” bit.
For my part, I half-heartedly started making unemployment jokes while notifying friends and family:
Stage 3: Try to gamble your way out of it
Any financial professional will tell you that when faced with a sudden need for cash, the best thing to do is attempt a series of high-risk, low-probability schemes to make that money back in one fell swoop. Patience is your enemy here.
Find some aggressively long odds and throw a good sized bag at it. Pick a BC player to win the Heisman. Bet Davis Mills to win MVP. Throw down an 8-team, all underdog parlay on Israeli basketball. You really can’t go wrong.
It’s the same principle as buying scratch tickets. Buy enough and you’ll eventually be a millionaire. There’s a tipping point somewhere.
Stage 4: Start panic-cutting expenditures
Ok reality is starting to set in. You’ve been living too high on the hog for too long. Gotta make some major cuts and live a more modest lifestyle. Right off the bat, I’ve found a few ways to save myself literally thousands:
Stop ordering UberEats for every meal. You know how to cook.
When you do order UberEats, limit it to one menu item and $15, not 5 and $60
Stop throwing down $80 on the 50/50 raffle at every Bruins game.
This one is going to hurt. I was so close to winning.
Cancel gym membership
Oh no damn it I loved it so much. Darn.
Stop saying “I got this” every time you go out to eat to impress people who are already your friends
You don’t got this. You’ve never had it.
Also stop saying you command “Five-figures a year”
Won’t really save me money, it’s just not a real brag.
Stop getting suckered in by Instagram ads
Bought this shirt purely on impulse at 4AM. What occasion warrants this shirt? A safari-themed frat party?
Don’t top every single meal you eat with a dollop of imported Spanish caviar
No excuse for this one. Just wasteful.
Stage 5: Figure out what’s next
Alright, you’ve fully come to grips with the situation. Now it’s time for action. What’s next for ol’ George? There are several promising options:
Leech off the government
Gotta hop in the unemployment line right off the bat. I will be suckling the teat of Uncle Sam’s supple breasts as long as I need to.Marry Rich
More of a long-term play, but a prominent ambition of mine nonetheless. I would be a GREAT house husband. I’m an excellent cook, know how to properly clean, and prefer to wear shorts for groin aeration purposes so my wife can wear the pants in the relationship. I’ll be the bread maker, she’ll be the bread winner.Dive in front of a city bus
Suing the city — a classic because it works.Guilt trip my friends into paying for me even though I have plenty of money saved
Going to start dressing up like Tiny Tim and begging people to put shillings in my scally cap. Would actually be nice to be on a crutch too. Take some weight off the knees.Get in shape
Attempt to sell my organs
Obviously a real organ bank isn’t taking my decrepit insides, but that’s what black markets are for. A fatty liver that has 10-15 years of functionality left is better than dying next week.Spend more time on my hobbies
Yeah it’s nice to have a job, but it really distracts from my true passions in life like this blog or sleeping in the daytime. I’m also excited to give my full attention back to my fantasy team. Those guys deserve it. Could always go the claymation route too:
That about does it. Wish me luck on my journey to process being laid off. On a somewhat serious note, if any of you work for a company that produces a software so niche that even the founders aren’t positive what it does, let me know. I do freelance copy work on the side. I can make the mundane sound, well…not exciting, but less dull at the very least. Got a website and everything. And on a very serious note, if you or anyone you know works at DraftKings or, moonshot, Barstool, get me a fucking interview. I’ve been trying to work there since college.
As far as this blog is concerned, you’re all in luck because I now have the time to crank out even more content. Unless you hate this blog, in which case you’re fucked.
Anyways, I’m genuinely looking forward to finding out what’s next. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to post a super long, self-indulgent novel on LinkedIn in which I find away to compare my situation to being in combat or some shit.
