My first thought that day was that I hated mornings. I rolled over to confirm what I already knew. It was six o’clock, and my alarm pierced the peaceful slumber I’d been in. As I hit snooze, I began thinking of my day. Joy radiated through me as I realized today was Thursday, my last day of work before Christmas break. It was the last day I’d have to wake up to an alarm for almost two weeks. I rolled onto my side and snuggled under the covers. I still had to wash my hair that morning, but I could hit snooze twice more and still be to work on time.
“Fine,” I said loudly as my alarm went off for the third time. My husband chuckled, already awake and reading the news highlights on his phone. I sat up, swung my legs over the edge of the bed and fumbled my feet into my slippers. As I stood up, I grabbed my phone and padded my way to the bathroom, weaving ever so slightly as I tried to start my morning. I made it to the bathroom without bouncing off the door jam, as was my typical modus operandi. No new bruise for me! Today was going to be a good day, I thought.
Sitting on the toilet, I began thumbing through the emails that had come in overnight to get a sense of my day at work. I saw an email from my boss and CEO congratulating my colleague, friend, and confidant on his promotion. I wasn’t really surprised; while my competitive streak reared its ugly head and I felt a stab of jealousy, I knew he deserved it. Good for him, I thought. I made a mental note to give him a celebratory hug.
Then my world stopped. “What the fuck! You have got to be kidding me,” I yelled as I reread the last line of the email: “………will now be reporting to…..”
I read the line over and over. My face flushed, my tears were brewing, and I began shaking in anger. I could not believe what I had read. Having been through several restructures over the course of my sixteen years at the company, we always spoke to those impacted before the announcement. I could not believe I had learned of my change via an email sent to the whole company. With tears streaming down my face, I showed my husband the email.
I somehow collected myself enough to shower and get ready for work. Putting on makeup was a bit of a trial as tears kept flowing, smudging my mascara. In the role I had moved into, the change in reporting structure made sense. It’s something that had been talked about hypothetically. What I could not get over was the lack of compassion. I kept reminding myself that I just had to get through today, then I’d have two weeks to lick my wounded ego and regroup. Today was not going to be an easy one.
My husband gave me a big hug on my way out the door. “You got this, babe,” he said. “Just keep your chin up, and don’t let those fuckers see how much you’re hurting.”
Originally published on October 28, 2020 (https://girlintheredhatblog.wordpress.com/)
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