• Tuesday March 19, 2002
    Nothing is permanent, everything changes.
That which doesn't kill me, makes me stronger.  Gods, then I should be able to leap tall buildings with a single bound.  Look, up in the air!  It's a bird!  It's a plane!

No!  It's Super Brenda!

Last Friday, at the end of a long day, my supervisor came into my office and closed the door.  The last time she did this was to inform me of a bonus I'd earned for being such a valued and valuable employee.  This time it was to tell me that, after ten years with the company, the new management had "re-evaluated the position in light of the changes being made to the web site, scaled it back to a part-time position, and re-assigned it to the Manchester, New Hampshire office."  I was handed my severance package.  My supervisor watched while I packed my cozy office lest I take something that belonged to the company or attempted to do something destructive to the web site.  I turned in my key and laptop, and was escorted out the door without being allowed to say goodbye to my friends and associates.

My husband assured me that this type of treatment is common practice for exiting folks who work in I/T, but the process came as quite a shock to me.  Unnerving.  Degrading.  I would never do anything to hurt my company.  I loved my job and publicly said so on numerous occasions.  With few exceptions, I loved the people I worked with on a daily basis.  With no exceptions, I loved the people I really worked for, the 1500+ members who used my web site on a daily basis as a communication hub.

Now, here's the kicker, everything I've done in my position resides on the company's intranet web site, locked firmly behind a very strong firewall.  (I know it's a very solid firewall... I made it.)  So.... how do I show any prospective employer what I've done during my four-year stint as web mistress?  If I'd seen this change coming, I would have taken steps to at the very least get some screen shots of my work.  But I didn't have a clue that one day I'd be walking on water and the next day I'd be floating face down in it.

Well, I did say repeatedly that I'd give almost anything to be able to telecommute once more.  Almost anything...  I've caught up on my yard work.  I have the Great American Novel to write, and the world's most supportive husband, family, and friends.  And I have a month of severance pay to rest on whilst collecting my thoughts and refocusing my energies.

So... what do I want to do?  WANT to do!  Hmmmm.