Looks Like I Picked the Wrong Day to Stop Drinking

My wife and I spent the end of last week in Colorado, which wrapped up four consecutive weekender road trips for us, all of which were heavy on the eating and drinking. My body was a tired wreck when we got home last Monday. I had planned to kick off a cleanse of sorts - not fully cold turkey, but cutting way back on the stuff that's bad for me.

Life had other plans.

I got a text from my boss asking if I could join him on a call at 6:30 ET. Since he was on the West Coast, I didn't think much of it. But when I joined the call and saw that one of our HR team members was on, as well, I thought much more of it. We're in the midst of a fairly significant expense reduction effort. In fact, I was about to have to lay off about 15 people in the name of cutting costs, something I dreaded.

Instead, my name made the list of cost-driven casualties, and my position is being eliminated. Effective November 7, I'll be unemployed for the first time since I was in graduate school in 1998. And I needed a few drinks to help me process that reality.

Ironically, I had a conversation with my boss about six weeks ago in which I told him that he had toomany vice presidents in the business unit I lead (for now). When he informed me that I was surplus to requirements, he reminded me of that analysis and thanked me for the advice. Which wasn't exactly what I had in mind when we had that discussion.

Let me pause the narrative here to make something clear. While I wouldn't necessarily have chosen this turn of events, I am not upset about it. It's been a hard goddamn three years, and I am well and truly worn out. The stress of leading a team through the pandemic and of significant organizational change earlier this year lay heavy on me, and I don't think I've been at my best over the past few months. And not for nothing, the severance package I'll receive ensures that I don't have to work for a year if I don't want to.

 

I spent much of the past week fielding calls and messages from colleagues. It's been a bit of a Tom Sawyer moment, like observing my own funeral. People that matter to me have been shocked and saddened, and said some extraordinarily moving and kind things. One of my folks told me, "You're going out loved and admired rather than hated and feared. Nobody ever remembers the people that leave as the latter."

While the past three years have admittedly been hard, I've also learned a great deal about myself. I think I've shown up as an authentic leader who is capable of building and maintaining a really strong collaborative and caring culture. I've led a business that grew more than 230% since 2018 (that's so going on my resume). I've helped other people grow their careers and find roles that they didn't think they were capable of getting. I've got a lot to be proud of, and I'll carry that with me.

I don't have any real idea what's next for me, other than the fact that I'm doing fuck all in November. I haven't decided if I'm going to work on my fitness or go full-on Avengers: Endgame Thor. Likely the former. I wrote a children's book a few years ago, so I'll probably try to polish that up and see if I can trick someone into publishing it. Definitely gonna watch every minute I can of the World Cup. My dog and I are about to log some serious hiking miles.

And I'm going to spend a good deal of time reconnecting with people that matter to me, and thinking hard about how to prioritize what matters in my next professional chapter. I've come to understand that I'm happiest at work when I'm building something and not so much when I'm managing something. So I'll look for a place I can be integral to the growth of the joint.

But I also know that I'll find other ways to spend my time, at least for a while. There obviously a good bit of uncertainty in my life all of a sudden, and I'm sure I'll deal with low-level tension because of that, but I'm in a good place. Don't cry for me, Gheorghentina.

Thanks for listening, friends. I guess this means you'll expect me to post stuff more frequently.