Dumped. Laid-off. Canned. Sacked. Call it what you will. Yesterday you had a job, a paid vacation, and a company sponsored blackberry and today you’ve got the box of belongings you collected from your cubicle, a depressing 401 k statement and, well, maybe, a hangover. These are your returns for years of working overtime and going the extra mile. Quite frankly, it sucks.
“You’ve got mad skills,” one friend reminds you. “You’re linked-up,” says another. You can tell that they’ve been reading internet job site propaganda. Don’t they understand that jobs are disappearing from the economy and that you can’t just go out and get work if there’s very little to be had?
Next you’re mother calls and starts singing something from an old, annoying cereal commercial, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” You ask her how she thinks you’re going to pay your bills with the little chunk of change unemployment provides. She tells you that the Chinese symbol for crisis is made up of two characters, one means danger, the other means opportunity. “Go find yours,” she says, then hangs up.
And while a pink slip hardly looks like the key to opportunity, that’s exactly what it’s been for some New Yorkers who lost their jobs in the last recession. They each took a good hard look at the economic climate, their abilities and desires, and chose to bet on themselves rather than on a potential future employer.
Want to meet them? Read my article in the New York Post.
