That Was Then, This Is Now

 I've noticed that there  are certain personal traits  that can prevent me from living life on life's terms: thoughts that become words; words that become actions; actions that become habits; habits that shape character, character that determines  destiny.

Along with the 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years.  the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months taught me a (somewhat) pragmatic  approach  to work as expressed by these  rules:

"Nothing personal, just business". Although managers  may say that they value me and my contributions, anyone is expendable if the bottom line takes a nosedive.

"If the boss says jump, ask how high." Either my words and actions have a positive impact on the bottom line, or I'm being added to the list of the next to be let go (this follows the "one finger points   out, three fingers point back" rule).

"Little changes now prepare me for the big change later".  Either I adapt as change inevitably happens, or I resist change and (eventually) get added to that list of the next to be let go.

I recall an incident over 10 years ago that serves as a constant reminder of how much my character has changed (and how much it has stayed the same).  I once watched a younger colleague--who looked much like me when I graduated from college -- act much like me when I graduated from college. This younger colleague berated another during work hours for being incompetent and wasting his precious time in a very public setting (well, there really is no privacy when you work in cubicles). The younger  colleague was let go shortly  afterwards.

While I was shocked at the poor manners of my younger colleague,  I realized  how my own  words and actions could  put me on the list of those to be let go next (or the infamous "sh-t list"). You see, I could  be  the most talented and accomplished  employee on paper, but  I also could be expendable  simply because I was unbearable.  Like my younger  colleague, my  bosses and colleagues may have put up with me, perhaps out of equal doses of empathy and pragmatism, only to be confronted with restlessness, irritability, and discontent. 

Time Out (Redux)

 I'm taking a time out because I've  hit that proverbial fork in the road, and I need to figure out  which way to turn. It started over a year ago  when I was told that I needed cataract surgery to correct my vision. Then, the COVID-19 pandemic hit in March and my surgery was cancelled. It was not until this month that I was  eligible  for the operation again.

As I look back,  I can see that I've been running around for the past year  trying to do the right thing and I  forgot that it was OK just to be me.  You see, I couldn't just call a time out like a football game to allow the medical personnel to come out on the field.

Instead, life just continued with the weekday  grind of putting a roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my back, and a few dollars in the bank for the bills that need to be paid. On the other hand, I must admit that all of my needs (and many of wants) were met.

Still, I do catch myself saying "Been there, done that" all too often when I read job descriptions, a sure sign that I am becoming complacent -- or just plain bored. Perhaps it's time for me to move on after 30 years as a technical writer: 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years (including the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months). 

Or, perhaps  it's just  time for me to thank the God of my understanding for doing for me what I cannot do for myself.

Another Day, Another Dollar (Redux)

 After looking over my LinkedIn profile, a recruiter reached out just to explore the possibility of working remotely on a full-time basis after I moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento.

The recruiter scheduled a day and time to call me. I waited, but the call never happened. I followed up with a message suggesting that it would be better for me to call at a day and time that the recruiter would be available.

After the arrangements were confirmed, the recruiter did not answer the phone when I called and I could not leave voicemail.

The runaround continued for several days before I sent a message stating I was no longer interested.

Still, I wasn't really disappointed about the outcome. You see, I'm taking a well-deserved sabbatical after working for a slew of pre-IPO startups to Fortune 500 companies: 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years along with the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months.

My  life does have a meaning, purpose, and plan. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.

Three Rules (Redux)

 When it came time, I let go of my two  oldest granddaughters so they could close their eyes, dream big, and work hard to make their dreams come true.

You see, I didn't quite know how to prepare them for a work environment that is so different since I started my 37-year "career" as a full-time employee and contractor: 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years along with 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months (see Plan B).

So, first of all, I gave each granddaughter a book on career planning (Do What You Are by Paul Tieger and The Pathfinder by Nicholas Lore).

Then, I wrote a letter based on my experience as words of encouragement to sustain them along the way.

I'm passing on an excerpt of that letter for those who may need the same encouragement:

"I'm giving you a book that I hope will prepare you for the many changes that will occur during your career — some you get to choose, some that will be chosen for you.

Consider the book as a roadmap to navigate those changes. Keep in mind to always consider the words of the author with your own personal experiences (ie, take what you like and leave the rest).

But just as important as the journey is the kind of person you become along the way. Since you were young, I recited my three rules:

• “Please and thank you."
• "You have to listen."
• "You cannot always have your way.”

These three rules will serve as a compass when you go to far off places, and I will know you will be all right.

“Please and thank you.” is a reminder to be respectful of others, and that "No" is a complete sentence (no reason needs to be given).

“You have to listen.” is a reminder  to consider others in your choices and to be accountable to others for your actions.

“You cannot always have your way.” is a reminder that if it is not possible for you to accept people, places, situations, or outcomes for what they are, then it is  probably about "you"  rather than about “them”.

So, with a roadmap and compass in hand, my fondest wish is for you to find a fulfilling career with a meaning,  purpose, and plan."

Older and Wiser (Part 2)

 I recall getting together with a good friend for the graduation of his oldest daughter from college. We took the opportunity to compare notes about how we started our careers after college.

You see, my friend took the conventional route: he got a nine-to-five job, married his college sweetheart, and started a family. He raised his two daughters and son to excel in everything they did with the same drive and discipline that was instilled in both of us by our parents.

As we gazed at his family over dinner, we reflected on how we were in our 20s. Yes, we were overachievers, but we also shared our parent's expectations for success. As a result, we often expressed those expectations in much the same way as our parents.

Or perhaps differently, when we caught ourselves in those moments. We remembered how those words made us feel when we were in our 20s, and soften the tone to come across as suggestions rather than as expectations.

Hindsight may not be 20/20, but it does show how we become older and wiser.

Older and Wiser

I caught up with a former colleague over dinner. At one point during our conversation, he asked me whether my outlook on life has changed because I’m older and wiser. Being stumped for an answer, I just replied that I'm more experienced about life.

You see, when I was younger, I thought that anything was possible if I just set my mind on it. Less than a year after graduating from college, I landed my dream job as a magazine editor that I thought would surely make me happy forever (or at least until I retired).

But after six years of tight deadlines and endless travel, I decided that I just wanted a reasonable commute between home and work. So, I became a technical writer in Silicon Valley: a total of 17 jobs that lasted anywhere from 6 months to 6 years along with the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months.

Looking back, I admit not every choice I made during that time brought me to the place where I am today. Through the best of the boom times and the worst of the bust times, those choices did teach me two lessons:

• I'm not always going to get my way;

• Even if I do get my way. the outcome seldom meets my expectations.

Was it because self-reliance failed me? Self-reliance was good as far as it went, but it often did not go far enough.

So, perhaps older and wiser may just mean that when life hands me lemons I make lemonade. 

The Second Time Around

 I once actively pursued past times when I was young: kayaking on Montterey Bay; hiking in the Santa Cruz mountains; mountain biking on Mission Peak; or just reading a book while listening to my favorite jazz music.

Somehow, those past times became less important than the daily  grind of putting a roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my back, and a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day.

That daily grind eventually became a 37-year "career" as a full-time employee and contractor ranging from pre-IPO startups to Fortune 500 companies in Silicon Valley: 17 jobs that lasted 6 months to 6 years (and  7 layoffs lasting 3 to 11 months).

As a full-time employee, the daily grind consisted of constantly looking over my shoulder after being let go despite working long hours to meet tight project deadlines.

As a contractor, the daily grind consisted of leaving without a trace after 6:00 pm since I no focus on the golden handcuffs (eg, health insurance, 401(k) plan, or stock options) that shackle full-time employees to the notion of "job security".

The daily grind eventually came to an end when I decided to move to a more leisurely (and affordable) lifestyle in the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento (see Nothing Personal, Just Business).

Friends and family ask me what I’m doing now.  I reply that I'm on a sabbatical. I don't bring work home with me. I don't unwind from the stress of 60 hour work weeks that made me dread Mondays. I don't obsess about layoffs that made me dread Thursdays.

My attention is gradually returning to those past times that I once pursued. I live near Lodi Lake with direct access to the Mokelumne River for kayaking, hiking, and mountain biking.I also set aside time to just relax and read a book while listening to my favorite jazz music.

You see, my  life has always had a a meaning, purpose, and plan. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.

Feelings Are Not Facts

I''m finally coming to terms with Doom (the self-centered fear of losing what I have) and Gloom (the self-centered fear of not getting what I want). I have this knack for subtly distorting present circumstances with recollections of disappointment, frustration, and resentment. The chatter of Doom and Gloom make me wonder about what would happen next if the other shoe fell.

You see, I drag my past into the present whenever I treat feelings as "facts". Some person, place, situation, or outcome is not what I expect, and I overreact as I am taken out of my comfort zone of what is known and familiar.

A common term for this malaise is "doubt".  My past reminds me that I'm not so sure that I know what's best for me (or others). Doubt leads to fear when I am faced with making choices based on selfish or self-seeking motives, accompanied by guilt and remorse knowing that I'm accountable for the outcome of those choices.

So, just for today, I will make decisions and act on them rather than slip into the whirlpool of doubt that turns feelings into "false evidence appearing real".

Plan B

 I recall a proverb attributed to the Chinese philosopher Lao-Tzu that goes something like this: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” A literal interpretation would be that the longest and most arduous venture has a starting point.

When I was young, I believed that anything was possible if I just set my mind on it. Less than a year after graduating from college, I told myself that my dream job as a magazine editor would make me happy forever (or at least until I retired). But after six years of tight deadlines and endless travel, I told myself that I just wanted a career with a reasonable commute. So, I went to work for another 30 years as a technical writer in Silicon Valley: 17 jobs that lasted anywhere from 6 months to 6 years (as well as 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months).

Looking back, it seemed that my 37-year journey was somehow scripted to happen the way that it turned out. On the other hand, not every step along the way was  so orderly. You see, the endless chatter of Doom and Gloom (those self-centered fears of losing what I have or not getting what I want) often made me wonder what would happen if the other shoe fell.

Well, for today, the other shoe has fallen on solid ground. Day by day, what I receive is what I need, not always what I want – those blessings that I never expect but get anyway. I have a roof over my head, food on the table, clothes on my back, and a few dollars left over for a rainy day. I have my health (physical, mental, and spiritual) despite the many ups and downs. I have the love of friends and family who have supported me through those ups and downs.

I have always had a meaning, purpose, and plan for my life. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.

Nothing Personal, Just Business

Nothing really prepared me for my last day working in Silicon Valley -- not the 16 previous jobs that lasted anywhere from 6 months to 6 years, nor the 7 layoffs that lasted 3 to 11 months. You see, I follow a familiar routine waiting for the other shoe to drop having worked as a full-time employee and contractor for the past 30 years.

As a full-time employee, I constantly look over my shoulder after being let go despite  working long hours to meet tight project deadlines.

As a contractor, I leave without a trace after 6:00 pm since I no longer fret about the golden handcuffs (ie, health insurance, 401(k) plans, and stock options) that shackle full-time employees to the notion of "job security". I am also wary of offers to “audition” for the job on a contract to permanent basis.

But this time was different. I felt the grip of Doom (the self-centered  fear of losing what I have) and Gloom (the self-centered  fear or not getting what I want) settling in for a long stay as I struggled for months to recover from recurring bouts of bronchitis and asthma.

Finally, I reached out to my manager and shared my concern that the stress from work was affecting my health. My manager followed up with HR right away to address the issue. With my doctor's approval, I was  placed on a three week disability leave. Accepting what seemed inevitable, I admitted that I was done.

Then, a funny thing happened. I was relieved that  I no longer needed to unwind from the stress of 60 hour work weeks that made me dread Mondays or obsess about layoffs that made me dread Thursdays.

What I finally realized was that it's all about doing the next right thing: putting food on the table, clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day.

And especially learning to live one day at a time (a lesson that takes a lifetime).

I once explored the possibility of moving to a more leisurely  and affordable lifestyle in the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento (see You Never Know). After talking with my financial and tax advisors, I was ready to tell my manager that I quit and sell my home in the Bay Area.

A good friend said that I just took the opportunity to lay myself off.

Another Day, Another Dollar (Continued)

I found out the hard way that 37 years of experience can actually work against you  if a hiring manager presumes that you are "not qualified" for the job.

Based on the inquiries I get from recruiters, fixed-term contract jobs  still far outnumber full-time permanent positions. I suspect that hiring managers want the flexibility to reduce headcount after the fixed-term assignments are over. Occasionally, a hiring manager will offer the opportunity to "audition" for the part on a contract-to-permanent basis.

You see, my wife and I have sat at the dinner table to juggle the household budget after the 7 layoffs that lasted anywhere from 3 to 11 months. I took contract jobs just to put food on the table, clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads -- usually for an hourly rate that was roughly two-thirds of what I made as a full-time employee. On the other hand, I did take home  about $500  more each paycheck by not paying the pre-tax deductions (eg, 401(k)  contributions and health insurance premiums) that full-time employees did to cover “benefits”.

The take home pay from a contract job usually paid the monthly bills. If we were  lucky, we  saved enough to pay the larger bills (eg, insurance premiums or property taxes).

Perhaps those concerns about money can be a blessing in disguise. As we grow accustomed to pinching our pennies. we adopt a lifestyle that we can afford in retirement.

Because of hard work (and a little faith), the good times are back and the future looks bright.

Another Day, Another Dollar

A recruiter reached out to arrange an interview for a full-time position after I moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento.

At the time, I thought that the interview went well enough when it came to questions about my qualifications (ie, whittling down the square pegs of past positions to fit the round holes of the job description).

However, the issue of "fit" came down to the unspoken presumptions  of certain questions:

"Could you tell me something about yourself?" could be interpreted as "Are you the kind of person I already have in mind for the position?"

"What do you really want to do?" could be interpreted as "Are you after my job?"

"How would you handle this situation?" could be interpreted as "Tell me how to handle this situation because nothing I did seemed to work."

As I tried to read between the lines of those interview questions, I was reminded of a quote from my favorite author Robert Heinlein: "Sure the game is rigged, but you can't win if you don't play." In other words, I am responsible for the footwork, not the outcome.

I waited for over a week after the interview with no feedback from the recruiter. So, I sent a message that I was no longer interested in the position.

Still, I was not disappointed about the outcome, You see, I know that my life has a meaning, purpose, and plan. I just need to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.

Three Rules (Coninued)

I took the opportunity to let go of my goddaughter so she can make her dreams come true. You see, I never took the time after graduating from college to settle down, get married, and raise a family. Rather, I lived vicariously as a parental figure to my goddaughter (now 29 and starting a career in Silicon Valley). Through a lifetime of family gatherings such as birthday parties and backyard barbecues, I loved her as though she was my own daughter, doting on her and spoiling her for sure, but also ready with a stern word should the occasion arise.

I first became aware that the work environment for my goddaughter is much different than the one I began my career when I read that the company where she works announced a 9% layoff. You see, I already grew accustomed to a routine of waiting for the other shoe to drop having bounced between being a contractor and a full-time employee for the past 20 years. I leave without a trace after 6 pm since I no longer fret about the “golden handcuffs” (such as health insurance, sick leave, accrued vacation, 401(k) plans, and stock options) that shackle other full-time employees to the notion of “job security”.

Still, I did not quite know how to prepare her for such a future. So I decided to share my experience, strength, and hope as words of encouragement to sustain her on her journey (as well as pass them on to others who may need the same encouragement):

"Ever since I held you in my arms the day of your baptism, you have had a special place in my heart. You are starting a career in a world that has radically changed since your parents and I graduated. First of all, there were no iPhones and Internet (which meant before e-mail, Web browsing, texting, or streaming).

We are part of the “Old School” where you always carried around a dime to make a call from a phone booth (when there were phone booths), listened to our boom boxes (which tended to be as big as we could carry), and there was no substitute for the Internet because the very idea wasn’t even around until you were in elementary school.

I have been thinking long and hard for awhile about any words of wisdom that I can share with you that would help as you start out on your professional career. I even go back a few years ago when I gave you a book on career planning (The Pathfinder by Nicholas Lore) that I hoped would prepare you for the many job searches that will occur in your work life—some you will get to choose, some that will be chosen for you.

You see, my “career” has consisted of 17 jobs since I graduated from college in 1981 (being employed anywhere from six months to six years). During that time, I have survived 7 layoffs lasting anywhere from 3 to 11 months. I have also worked as a contractor for three different companies in the past four years. Every time, I managed to put food on the table, clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and put a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day as I accept that my “career” will often consist of looking for the next job.

On the other hand, just as important as what you accomplish in your career, is the kind of person you become along the way. You see, when I got laid off for the first time in 1994 (when you were not even in kindergarten), it gave me time to do more than just put food on the table, clothes on my back, and a roof over my head — it also gave me the opportunity to spend time with you and recite my three rules (as necessary): “Please and thank you. You have to listen. You cannot always have your way.” These rules will serve as your compass because they are the values that your parents and I have raised you so that, when that day eventually comes, you can go to farther off places and we know you will be all right.

"Please and thank you” is a reminder to be respectful of others, and that “No” is a complete sentence (no reason needs to be given).

"You have to listen” is a reminder to consider others in your choices and be accountable to others for your actions.

"You cannot always have your way” is a reminder that if it is not possible for you to accept people, places, situations, or outcomes for what they are, then it is probably about “you” rather than about “them”.

So, my fondest wish is that you find your path to a fulfilling life, passionate and exciting, with the knowledge that God has given you a purpose, meaning, and plan with the full support of your Mom, Dad, and I.”

You Never Know

Still working feverishly to meet an important project deadline,  I got my seventh layoff package in 20 years. I waited for a taxi to take me home with my personal belongings, but I left the responsibilities and decisions with my manager.

Once again, it was time for me to move on.

Little did I know then that I would be out of work for almost a year. Nothing prepared me for the day I exhausted my 26 week unemployment benefit, or a hand injury that led me to collect eight more weeks of disability benefits.

I was prepared somewhat for the job search by updating my resume and applying for jobs that I believed suited me. I was not prepared for the 40 rejection notices that focused on my "lack of skills"  or "relevant experience" (but I suspected may have been influenced by my age).

Accepting what seemed inevitable, I finally admitted that I was done.

Then, a funny thing happened. I felt a load was taken off my shoulders since I no longer wanted to jump back into the rat race of the long hours (and long commutes) working in Silicon Valley, I explored the possibility of retiring early and moving to a more leisurely (and affordable) lifestyle in the San Joaquin Valley near Sacramento. After consulting with realtors and financial advisors, my wife and I made plans to sell our home in the Bay Area.

As these plans were being put in place, I got a call to interview for a job where they actually wanted someone with my background and experience that was quickly followed by an offer that I couldn't refuse.

So, I guess I can put off early retirement.

But you never know...

Passing It On

I became aware that the work environment that my goddaughter would enter would be much different than the one I began my career when she asked for help on her resume. You see, I  follow a familiar routine waiting for the other shoe to drop having bounced between being a contractor and a full-time employee for the past four years. I  have grown accustomed to leaving without a trace after 6 pm since I don't fret about the "golden handcuffs"  (such as health insurance, sick leave, accrued vacation,  401(k) plans, and stock options) that  shackle other  full-time employees to the notion of  "job security".

I did not quite know how to prepare her for such a future, so I wrote a letter from my experience, strength, and hope as words of encouragement to sustain her on her journey. I wanted to pass on an excerpt of that letter to others who may need the same encouragement:

"I have been thinking long and hard for awhile about any wisdom or experience that I can share with you that would help as you start out on your professional career. I even go back a few years ago when I gave you a book on career planning that I hoped would prepare you for the many job searches that will occur in your work life—some you will get to choose, some that will be chosen for you.

You see, my “career” has consisted of 16 jobs since I graduated from college in 1981 (being employed anywhere from six months to six years). During that time, I have survived six layoffs lasting anywhere from three to nine months. I have also worked as a contractor for three different companies in the past four years. Every time, I managed to put food on the table, clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and put a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day as I accept that my “career” will often consist of looking for the next job.

With that in mind, I have tried to craft a resume for you based on what I know has worked for me. Take the words that are contained with not only my experience and wisdom, but also temper them with your own wisdom and experience as you find your way to where you want to go.

Still, just as important as the journey from here to there, is the kind of person you become along the way. You see, when I got laid off for the first time in 1994 (when you were not even in kindergarten), it gave me time to do more than just put food on the table, clothes on my back, and a roof over my head -- It also gave me the opportunity to spend time with you and recite my three rules (as necessary): “Please and thank you. You have to listen to me. You cannot always have your way.” Those rules grew with time and experience to be the lessons of life that carried you off to college and I knew you would be all right.

These lessons of life will serve as your compass because they are the values that your parents and I have raised you so that, when that day eventually comes, you can go to farther off places and we will know you will be all right. “Please and thank you” is a reminder to be respectful of others, and that “No” is a complete sentence (no reason needs to be given). “You have to listen to me” is a reminder to consider others in your choices and be accountable to others for your actions. “You cannot always have your way” is a reminder that if it is not possible for you to accept people, places, situations, or outcomes for what they are, then it is probably about “you” rather than about “them”.

So, my fondest wish is that you find your path to a fulfilling life, passionate and exciting, with the knowledge that God has given you a purpose, meaning, and plan with the full support of your Mom, Dad, and I."

If The Shoe Fits

It was a November morning when my colleague stopped by my cubicle to quietly let me know that layoffs were happening and that two writers were already gone.  A few minutes later, our manager stopped by and asked to meet with me privately.

He simply told me that the company was going through a reorganization instituted by the new CEO who arrived the previous August, and that I was being laid off with several others who worked for my manager. After six months, just like that,  I lost a permanent full-time  job, along with the perks that I didn’t have for the two years I worked as a contractor: the  health insurance , sick leave, accrued vacation,  401(k) plan, stock options, and the 20 minute commute.

It seems so straightforward now, as if it was somehow scripted to happen the way that it did. Yet,  as I look back over three years ago when I began this journey, every step that I have taken along the way haven't  been as orderly as I would like. There have been many forks  along the way, where my choices have brought me to a place where I am today. Along with those choices has been the endless chatter of Doom and Gloom (or those self-centered fears of losing what I have or not getting what I want)  that made me constantly worry about would happen if the other shoe fell.

Well, at least for the moment,  the other shoe has fallen on solid ground and it seems to fit. I completed my first big project last Friday  at my current assignment, and I was not shown the door on Monday.  In fact, I just completed another deadline at the end of this week, with more deadlines planned for the rest of the year.

Furthermore, between one friend offering to keep a look out for possible job opportunities or another  reminding me to be kind to myself, I know  that I am not trying to live a day at a time entirely on my own. Instead, I am just a fellow traveler on this journey called  Life.

The Other Shoe Falls (Again)

With the recent arrival of a new CEO at the company, my manager told me this week that my current  assignment may not be converted to full-time status because of budgetary constraints (but he assured me that I have a job until at least the end of the year).

My immediate reaction was  to anticipate only despair and foreboding. I have a knack for subtly distorting present circumstances with past memories of disappointment, frustration, perhaps even betrayal. A common term for this malaise is "doubt".  I'm not so sure whether  the choices that I made over the past six months have been aligned with my will or God's will, or  ultimately  whether I'm  even willing to accept the outcome of those choices.

It is only with persistent and conscious effort is it possible for me to avoid slipping into a whirlpool of negativity that allows my feelings to become false evidence appearing real (otherwise known as fear). So each day this week, I start off by expressing gratitude that I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food on the table, and more than a few dollars saved for that rainy day.  Such a simple change in attitude leads to a faith that allows for different choices…and possibly different outcomes.

God has always had a meaning, purpose, and plan for my life. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.

Catching My Breath

The first time that I got laid off, there was a reorganization and I was odd man out. The second time that I got laid off, I said to the boss what others merely dream of saying. The third time I tried to be a good boy and did what the boss said, but it didn't make any difference. The fourth time I was a good boy, but the company folded anyways after a year. Yet another time, I was not only a good boy, but a loyal company man as well for six years (with what I thought was that ticket to retirement).

This time around, the layoffs started barely two months after I started working there in January. Although I have survived so far, I still follow a familiar routine waiting for the other shoe to drop (having bounced between being a contractor and a full-time employee for the past three years).

As a hired gun paid  to do a job, I  grew accustomed to leaving without a trace after 6 pm since I no longer fret about the "golden handcuffs"  (such as health insurance, sick leave, accrued vacation,  401(k) plans, and stock options) that shackled full-time employees to the notion of job security.  As a full-time employee, I have a healthy skepticism from being let go the Monday morning after finishing a critical six-month project.  I am also wary of  the bait-and-switch when  I am approached with an opportunity to "audition" for the part on a contract-to-permanent basis.

Still, when I take the time to catch my breath after being heads down for so long, I realize that I am only really responsible for the footwork. I have always had a meaning, purpose, and plan for my life. I just have to remember that it's not up to me to know (or understand) all of the details.