Our household averages a new job every 18 months. Between the wife and I we’ve been party to temporary layoffs, corporate acquisitions, downsizing, rightsizing and voting with our feet. Our daughter is so inured to whole process she wasn’t quite sure whether it was mom or dad this time that might soon be facing unemployment. To be clear I’m not without work – merely a minor hiccup on our way to corporate greatness I’m sure.

Kids these days have no staying power. Contrast this with my folks who worked for and retired from the same companies they started at when they immigrated to the region. 30+ years at the same company.

I’ve shown up to the office early to find a company notification on the printer announcing our acquisition and subsequent redundancy. No one likes that early morning, pre-coffee realization of  “I may be out of work before the end of the day.” To the company’s credit the whole process was handled with class and grace from the very top all the way down. My fondest firing.

I’ve also found myself wondering aloud where half the staff were going and why I wasn’t called to this impromptu meeting only to find them collectively booted to the parking lot with a cardboard box of personal effects. Some time afterwards the CEO made a fumbling, head scratching speech to the remaining staff equating the entire process to big game hunting and bagging a gazelle, which is what he had just returned from doing. (He always left the country whenever there was an impending layoff.) Survivor guilt and that clueless presentation nudged me out the door.

There was that short stint with an insufferably entitled, “uber-fabulous” boss guilty of countless soul-sucking acts of belittlement and disregard. Sure you could tough it out while looking for the next gig but sometimes it’s better to just get the fuck out fast and never mention it again in your professional CV.

There was that month long campaign to get fired that started with impassioned pleas to management, department VPs and the HR Director that were summarily ignored and ended with mid afternoon matinees and nap days. All this resulted in a raise and promotion and the realization that the bluff was fully called and there was no other recourse than to move on.

There are stories of the lone HR messenger carrying the yellow folder of death as employees were plucked one by one over the course of an afternoon and let go. One at a time? How productive was that afternoon? We’ve all got our battle scars and stories to tell.