I spoke to the guy at the recruitment agency that got me the ex-job yesterday. He couldn’t believe it either. Feedback had been good and he knew they were busy as he had a long term freelancer placed there (you know – Laurel).
He got back to me today after he’d spoken to Hardy, who had spoken highly of me but said I need to concentrate on one area, rather than art directing, writing, desiging etc, and that my mac skills were not up to scratch so unfortunately they couldn’t offer me a job elsewhere in the company!!!!!!
Had I been in a different frame if mind I would have pissed myself laughing. Instead I was extremely angry at this blatant bullshit and referred him to my letter of redundancy which stated it was ‘nothing to do with my skills which were excellent”.
He told me to leave it behind and move on, but I was furious. I emailed Hardy and asked him to rethink his words when speaking to recruitment people. No response so far.
How does one go about getting a new job? I kind of stumbled upon my last one on a website. I thought it was serendipity since it was 5 minutes from my house (which I’d only just moved to from London) and I wasn’t even looking to change jobs. Obviously I thought wrong. Time to contact 175 of my 200 friends on Facebook.
Jo is... unemployed. Help!
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Tuesday 30 September 2008
Monday 29 September 2008
DAZED & CONFUSED
I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that I have no job. It’s never happened to me before. Apart from when I decided stuffing handbags in Australia wasn’t for me.
My former boss (Hardy) had seemed concerned on Friday when he took me for a large glass of cheap wine after he escorted me from the building in a tearful mess. He said he’d fought against the decision to make me redundant. He didn’t agree with it and wasn’t happy that he’d had no choice in the matter. He was treated like a child, had no say in how his department was run and he would do everything possible to help me find another job. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his 30 year career (must say I'm honoured to be the first person ever to be made redundant under his creative directorship). He was very, very sorry.
I just heard his freelance mate (Laurel) has moved into my desk and rearranged the furniture.
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My former boss (Hardy) had seemed concerned on Friday when he took me for a large glass of cheap wine after he escorted me from the building in a tearful mess. He said he’d fought against the decision to make me redundant. He didn’t agree with it and wasn’t happy that he’d had no choice in the matter. He was treated like a child, had no say in how his department was run and he would do everything possible to help me find another job. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his 30 year career (must say I'm honoured to be the first person ever to be made redundant under his creative directorship). He was very, very sorry.
I just heard his freelance mate (Laurel) has moved into my desk and rearranged the furniture.
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Friday 26 September 2008
YOU'RE FIRED!
:
Despite no warning or inkling, I knew what was going to happen when I was called to the boardroom. I’d only been in the job nine months. Before that I was at Tequila for nine years and only left because a senior designer role came up closer to home. No Thameslink and no northern line. Bliss.
So I threw away Soho for Sleepy Hollow. Except it wasn’t sleepy. “By the way – we’re going to call you ‘art director’ because we can’t afford both”. I was told upon my arrival. I didn’t mind. I can direct art as well as design. Plus, I enjoy variety and I like being busy. And busy I was, Pitch after pitch. Promotion after promotion...
“... Oh good you can write copy too – please write a press release for this by next week”. (Better keep her sweet – she’s the boss. Well, not my boss. My boss is the creative “director”. She just owns the company.) What about that client deadline? Still got to take a photo of Dave doing something crazy for the website. Had I come up with a new colour scheme for the walls yet and chosen a swatch for the curtains? Why were there no handles on the new cupboards in the toilet? (errrm.... ask me another). Had I taken photo’s of my last visit to the supermarket and put them on the system? If not why not? Everyone must take pictures whenever they stock up on bog roll. Where are the designs for the meeting? Need to write the copy for Nat's presentation. I promised I’d look at it even though it’s not on the schedule. Why are the walls bare in reception? Hang pictures ASAP. No hooks. Go to Homebase at lunchtime. I’ll start the days work once boss(y) woman’s gone home. Wonder what mood she’ll be in tomorrow. Will she like me or hate me? Either way she’ll probably have a new pashmina.
.............................................................................
To: All Staff
From: Boss(y) Woman
This office is a disgrace. Everybody tidy your areas this afternoon because if I come in tomorrow and this place is still a mess heads will role. (sic)
.............................................................................
I enjoyed the variety that comes with a small company. Designer, art director, copy writer, interior designer, handy man, art buyer, cleaner. It was fun. Jack of all trades – master of none (apparently).
“Our clients have changing needs, therefore we’re making your role redundant”.
It wasn’t my boss, the creative director that told me (AKA Hardy for the sake of this blog). It was Boss(y) woman’s right hand woman – deliverer of bad tidings and bollockings. A kind of Ann Robinson type but without the facelift. Shock and horror swept over me and I burst into tears. I hadn’t seen it coming at all. I’d been too busy, My role was being made redundant.
What was my role again? I’d forgotten.
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Despite no warning or inkling, I knew what was going to happen when I was called to the boardroom. I’d only been in the job nine months. Before that I was at Tequila for nine years and only left because a senior designer role came up closer to home. No Thameslink and no northern line. Bliss.
So I threw away Soho for Sleepy Hollow. Except it wasn’t sleepy. “By the way – we’re going to call you ‘art director’ because we can’t afford both”. I was told upon my arrival. I didn’t mind. I can direct art as well as design. Plus, I enjoy variety and I like being busy. And busy I was, Pitch after pitch. Promotion after promotion...
“... Oh good you can write copy too – please write a press release for this by next week”. (Better keep her sweet – she’s the boss. Well, not my boss. My boss is the creative “director”. She just owns the company.) What about that client deadline? Still got to take a photo of Dave doing something crazy for the website. Had I come up with a new colour scheme for the walls yet and chosen a swatch for the curtains? Why were there no handles on the new cupboards in the toilet? (errrm.... ask me another). Had I taken photo’s of my last visit to the supermarket and put them on the system? If not why not? Everyone must take pictures whenever they stock up on bog roll. Where are the designs for the meeting? Need to write the copy for Nat's presentation. I promised I’d look at it even though it’s not on the schedule. Why are the walls bare in reception? Hang pictures ASAP. No hooks. Go to Homebase at lunchtime. I’ll start the days work once boss(y) woman’s gone home. Wonder what mood she’ll be in tomorrow. Will she like me or hate me? Either way she’ll probably have a new pashmina.
.............................................................................
To: All Staff
From: Boss(y) Woman
This office is a disgrace. Everybody tidy your areas this afternoon because if I come in tomorrow and this place is still a mess heads will role. (sic)
.............................................................................
I enjoyed the variety that comes with a small company. Designer, art director, copy writer, interior designer, handy man, art buyer, cleaner. It was fun. Jack of all trades – master of none (apparently).
“Our clients have changing needs, therefore we’re making your role redundant”.
It wasn’t my boss, the creative director that told me (AKA Hardy for the sake of this blog). It was Boss(y) woman’s right hand woman – deliverer of bad tidings and bollockings. A kind of Ann Robinson type but without the facelift. Shock and horror swept over me and I burst into tears. I hadn’t seen it coming at all. I’d been too busy, My role was being made redundant.
What was my role again? I’d forgotten.
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