"Fired by ‘Reorganization’... / Chris Blog

How Getting ‘Laid Off’ at 62 Set Me Free to Find Myself—In a Dumpster"

After two years at what might be the most dysfunctional company I've ever had the misfortune of working for, I am now free. Free to work how I want, when I want, or not at all—which is precisely what unemployment in 2024 means. As a 62-year-old with a ticket to the great dumpster race, I am now part of an increasingly popular club: the used and discarded. It’s an exclusive club with a very simple entry requirement: don’t be young enough, new enough, or quiet enough.

The views expressed in this text are for expressive writing for a creative purpose. Any issues I have will be dealt with on a personal level. I condemn any abuse or bullying!

The Dysfunctional Dream! A Summary of Chaos

Working at a company marching into the future with blindfolded leadership and a white cane feels like driving down a remote road without GPS—and someone threw the map out the window long ago. Each day was an adventure of bad decisions, missed deadlines, and leadership as present as a deer on the Autobahn. Yet we stayed, hopeful, as if we truly believed that the project manager who couldn't remember their own last name would somehow turn the ship around.

My colleagues—the shining stars of this dysfunctional galaxy—helped light up the days with a smile while simultaneously reaching for the dagger when you least expected it. The coffee machine became a place for both quick socializing and subtle gossip sessions, where future tasks were assigned with a smile and a hidden agenda. It’s fascinating how you can be stabbed in the back by someone who just offered you a cinnamon bun.

The Official Reason! “Reorganization”

And then it happened—the fateful day when I got the news. The company, with its usual flair for drama, decided to “reorganize.” A fancy term that, in corporate speak, translates neatly into: “We’re firing you", but let’s pretend it’s about strategy.” The official narrative was that my position was being “restructured,” a classic euphemism that barely conceals the reality. We all knew what it meant. I wasn’t laid off because of some grand plan or clever cost-saving measure; I was just one more casualty in a long line of bad decisions made by an incompetent leadership team too proud to admit they were drowning.

So, there I was, escorted more or less out the door with a kick in the ass. I never signed up to play any game. I wasn’t the first, and I won’t be the last. Those still left are just waiting for their turn, clutching their coffee mugs like lifeboats on a sinking ship. The company will keep spinning the same story until the last lights go out, and then it’ll be someone else’s problem.

A New Era of Existence

So here I am, free. Free from meetings that could have been emails, free from presentations where the PowerPoints fell asleep before the audience, and free from the constant feeling that no one really knew what we were doing—not even the management. Becoming unemployed in 2024 is like winning the lottery where the prize is unlimited time and no income. Like a youthful retiree, but without the perks. You go from a workplace where you feel invisible to a world where you officially no longer exist. The Employment Service? Sure, they do their best—in theory. Mostly, their best is handing you a brochure about "discovering your hidden talents," which I interpret as rummaging through dumpsters for refundable bottles.

The Creative and Knowledgeable Path

Throughout my career, I’ve always been known for my unique approach to challenges—seeing possibilities where others saw only obstacles. My creativity and problem-solving skills allowed me to navigate through countless crises, both in digital environments and in real life. I turned chaos into opportunities, reshaped broken processes, and, quite often, found a way to make the impossible happen. I was the go-to person for projects that needed a fresh perspective, a different touch, or just someone willing to turn things upside down, both literally and figuratively.

But as the years went on, the thrill of saving sinking ships started to fade. What was once a rewarding challenge became a tiring routine. I could feel the shift, both in the industry and within myself. I longed for a new chapter, a different kind of freedom—the kind that didn’t come with endless meetings or backstabbing politics. My skills were still sharp, my mind still creative, but the environment around me felt increasingly obsolete.

And now, with the comfort of a paycheck gone, the realities of my situation are setting in. I haven’t gone into retirement yet, and I haven’t made the move abroad that’s been lingering in the back of my mind. But unemployment is pushing me toward both those decisions, forcing me to consider early retirement as a way to survive financially. It’s not the grand exit I had envisioned, but at this point, it feels like the only viable option.

The Colleagues Who Chilled My Back

Before I left my work, I had the honor of experiencing the pure joy of office politics at an elite level. It's impressive how people who can't even keep their own calendars organized can somehow come together well enough to push the least suspicious person out the door. My final project at the company? Leaving. And even that, they managed to involve themselves in.

One of the most memorable moments was when a colleague, whom I had naively considered a friend, told the boss that "someone has to take responsibility for this project going down the drain." That someone turned out to be me. I learned a lot about the word loyalty during my time there—mostly that it’s a consumable with a very short shelf life.

Retirement and Relocation

I haven’t retired yet, but it feels like an inevitability. As unemployment stretches on, the idea of pulling the retirement trigger looms larger. I’m on the brink of turning a page, not because I’m ready, but because the system is nudging me toward it. The thought of moving abroad—leaving behind the cold, familiar streets for somewhere warmer, quieter, and far from the corporate rat race—feels like a daydream that’s becoming more real with every passing day.

I imagine myself in a new country, where the pace of life is slower and the expectations lower. Maybe I’ll finally have time to pick up those hobbies I’ve put off for years, or just sit back and watch the world go by without a ticking clock pushing me forward. The relocation isn’t just a plan; it’s a necessity driven by a need to make retirement affordable and meaningful.

A Future Full of Possibilities (and Uncertainties)

But here I stand, in line for the dumpster, ready to take my place as part of the labor market’s scrap heap. Or maybe not. Maybe I’m truly free now, free to discover new meaning in life beyond Excel sheets and meaningless reports no one reads. Free to learn how to knit, grow my own vegetables, or perhaps just sleep in without waking up to the thought of a deadline that never meant anything in the first place.

Working at a dysfunctional company has prepared me for the uncertainty that awaits. It’s like becoming immune to the flu after working in an office where everyone has a cold. I’ve already seen the worst sides of human organization and survived. Maybe that’s why I’m not worried about being 62 and unemployed. I’ve already learned to live with uncertainty—it was my everyday life, after all.

The Company That Fell. A Forecast

Will the company still exist in a couple years? I doubt it. But if they somehow manage to keep limping along, it’s likely more thanks to the employees’ ability to improvise and do more with less rather than any grand leadership strategy. It’s a company that’s doing its best to show the world how to survive on pure luck and a bit of illusion. One day, someone will discover that the emperor has no clothes, and it’ll be interesting to see who’s left standing when the house of cards falls.

In line for the next exit are more of my old colleagues, waiting their turn. And if management doesn’t quickly find a compass, they will soon lead them straight into the next crisis. It’s like watching a broken GPS try to navigate—constant U-turns, wrong turns, and constant updates that never really lead anywhere. They say companies are like families, but I’ve rarely seen a family so systematically sabotage each other.

The Big Insight

And here I am now, free from all that. Life goes on, they say, and it has never felt more true than now. As I look back at my time in the dysfunctional swamp that was my job, I realize I’m not bitter — I’m relieved. Relieved that I don’t have to be part of something that no longer works. Leaving with stab wounds in my back is, after all, better than staying and slowly fading away from office inertia.

Life after work? Yes, it goes on. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like I actually have control over my own narrative. I’m no longer just a creative mind trapped in a corporate cage; I’m a free spirit embracing a new chapter, far from the noise and the nonsense. I may not have retired or relocated just yet, but both are on the horizon, promising a life that’s mine to shape. So while the company stumbles toward its own darkness, I stand on the sidelines and watch—free, creative, and full of possibilities, even if they include checking out this week’s trash.