All in a day's work

It turns out getting fired takes a lot more effort than I'm willing to put into a job.

It takes skill, you know. You have to build up to it. When I tried it, I made the usual mistakes.

I opened with the "do nothing" gambit. Based on my typing patterns, I rewired my keyboard to reduce finger movement. I even calculated the lowest frequency at which I needed to blink.

Last week, three people tapped my nose to check if I was still alive. I thought for sure that would do it.

But somehow I convinced my boss my work is so valuable that I must delegate displaying vital functions to someone further down the hierarchy.

What do you need to do to get canned? Drop water balloons on the CEO from the mezzanine?

Whatever it needs, it's more difficult than it has to be. Look, I just want to collect some severance and go on vacation. I don't see why I need a better reason.

After my earlier effort failed, I thought it might be a matter of communication. Perhaps it isn't appropriate anymore to tell someone they're getting the boot, the axe, or just plain sacked.

Maybe my boss was taking the time to think up a new, kinder, more tactful expression.

Such as, "you have been promoted to a new role at a different company that you have to find."

So I honed my ears. I became fluent in business-speak. I attended all the meetings, even the optional ones, because I didn't want to miss the big moment. Also because there were donuts.

No one gave me any sign. Being sly, eh? Fine. I'd pester them into firing — I mean, promoting me to a new role that I had to find.

And I'd do it without water balloons. There is such a thing as dignity, you know.

I became a flurry of activity. I sent email after email. I printed memo after memo to the tune of "I'm ready. Whenever you send the message, I'll get it." Only I used bigger words.

Two days ago, I got an office with a glass door and a swivel chair. That was a message, I guess, but not the one I wanted.

I needed another strategy. If doing nothing didn't work, and if communicating failed to get my point across, I would have to bug people enough for them to show me the door.

Drawing on all my powers of mild annoyance, I bought everyone too-hot coffee. Decaf. And bags of chips in place of a restaurant lunch.

I even treated my coworkers to 100% vegan gummy bears. "Made with real vegans," I said in an overly cheery voice.

If that didn't convince my higher-ups (of which there was a smaller and smaller number), I thought my tone surely would. This time, the chop was imminent.

But today, I got an award for working well with others. I cried into my paycheck.

Enough is enough. There's only one option left. I'm going up to the mezzanine.

Alexandra Paskhaver is a software engineer and writer. Both jobs require knowing where to stick semicolons, but she's never quite; figured; it; out.

Previously:
• 05/23/24: The state of the art
• 05/16/24: Rounding one's corners
• 03/22/24: Gone loopy
• 03/05/24: Philosophy rocks