And so, following on from the retrenchment awhile back, I have no choice but brave the job market to land a new job, given the fact that my company is technically on the throe of an ungraceful end following the unsuccessful projects in middle east and failure to secure new projects. Though not considered to join the swelling ranks of the unemployed and became part of the statistics of the economic crunch for I was employed on a temporary contract, I decided to start looking for a job anyway.
The job hunt was not mind-bendingly torturous, as one can infer from countless horror tales of securing full time employment; nor did it involve long winding queue in the company of whippersnappers, who recently graduated, to fill the limited vacancy. Thanks to the network of contacts and also my corporate affairs head, I managed to land the job with less hassle than expected.
After the easy bit on job-hunting, here came the handing-over.
In the tradition of basic interaction and communication ethics, there are several ways to mark the occasion. You get the pat on the back, the thanks for the memories and the “you are going to be fine because you are young and sky is the limit” signature platitudes while the door closes behind you. Not forgetting the tedious handover of the tasks on your hand and the clearing of your workstation; time to dump the constipated workload piled up in the in tray to someone else.
Sure brought back fond memories while picking through the accumulating jetsam and flotsam on the different corners of document tray and file cabinet. Even ran into a thriving colony of rats living a precarious existence on half-eaten snacks scattered along the neglected corner of the office. (Yes, my office is that dilapitated. Don't ask me why)
When economy is tough, thus the purse string is tight. Hence no extravagant go-away party, pats of reasssurance and kitschy gifts. There are more causes worthy of attention like finishing the stalled project, realigning the remaining resources and negotiating the next extension of time.
So amidst the light packing, comes a heavy realisation. Departure of one company and arrival at another is usually defined as reaching a pit stop, but of course it’s more than that, it’s the moment when you have shed enough of where you came from to be present at the place you’ve reached.
This offloading of layers takes time, like peeling an onion: it may irritate the eyes momentarily, but still a worthy price to pay to savour the juicy reward.
The job hunt was not mind-bendingly torturous, as one can infer from countless horror tales of securing full time employment; nor did it involve long winding queue in the company of whippersnappers, who recently graduated, to fill the limited vacancy. Thanks to the network of contacts and also my corporate affairs head, I managed to land the job with less hassle than expected.
After the easy bit on job-hunting, here came the handing-over.
In the tradition of basic interaction and communication ethics, there are several ways to mark the occasion. You get the pat on the back, the thanks for the memories and the “you are going to be fine because you are young and sky is the limit” signature platitudes while the door closes behind you. Not forgetting the tedious handover of the tasks on your hand and the clearing of your workstation; time to dump the constipated workload piled up in the in tray to someone else.
Sure brought back fond memories while picking through the accumulating jetsam and flotsam on the different corners of document tray and file cabinet. Even ran into a thriving colony of rats living a precarious existence on half-eaten snacks scattered along the neglected corner of the office. (Yes, my office is that dilapitated. Don't ask me why)
When economy is tough, thus the purse string is tight. Hence no extravagant go-away party, pats of reasssurance and kitschy gifts. There are more causes worthy of attention like finishing the stalled project, realigning the remaining resources and negotiating the next extension of time.
So amidst the light packing, comes a heavy realisation. Departure of one company and arrival at another is usually defined as reaching a pit stop, but of course it’s more than that, it’s the moment when you have shed enough of where you came from to be present at the place you’ve reached.
This offloading of layers takes time, like peeling an onion: it may irritate the eyes momentarily, but still a worthy price to pay to savour the juicy reward.
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