Checked out a potential new dwelling place for me and the wife early this week, in a building that is somewhat smack in between our respective work offices. (It doesn’t really matter much for now, since both of us work from home since COVID-19.) Because of continuing social distancing rules, the person supposed to show us around conducted her business with us via mobile only instead of a face-to-face meeting/discussion. (So, the agent is not showing us around. She’s just on the phone while we’re doing an ocular inspection of the premises.)
A truly weird feeling engulfed me as flashbacks of my apartment hunting past raced through my subconscious. Not surprising. After all, I’ve undergone several endeavors like this one as I jumped from one apartment unit to another spanning several years before I got married. Then more place-hopping along with the wife this time.
Seems we’re inclined to get it. The only big obstacle is the continuing lockdown on the metropolis. Since COVID-19 cases continue to rise in the country, particularly Metro Manila, there is fear that the government can once again decide to slide back to the more restrictive mode of the quarantine. And when that happens, I don’t think we’ll be able to move out from our (near-a-COVID-hotspot) apartment anytime soon. We’re just going to have to wait for a favorable September to roll in.
Wow. Did I just say, “September”? Back in January, who knew we’re going to be in this pandemic state by this time of the year?
On the last hour of the last working day of our boss (before he leaves for another company), rain poured hard over where I am based. Since the quarantine, the team that I work with have been telecommuting. I fired up a message on our office group chat and said something along the lines of the skies crying for our leader’s departure. Sentimental as heck, I know. But the personification of the weather scenario at the moment brought the thought out. It was, yes, a bit on the sad side. But it was real.
Seconds after I sent the message, one of my peers chimed in to say he’ll directly message the boss to thank him “for being so good to the team.” Indeed he was. Last year, he flew to Manila twice to be with the group for official business. And the inevitable after-hours hobnob. He was good. Treated us well. He was a fair boss. He’s not the breathe-down-your-neck type leader. (No one wants that, anyway.) He points out matters that he wants you to improve on. But he also gives you pats on the back for good things that you do.
This year, he was supposed to drop by the country again, at least twice. Then COVID-19 happened. Suddenly, the cards have changed. Even the game. And the team lost a good man to lead them on to perhaps, more success in what they do?
When two quality organizations merge, it sometimes takes a while before the final look of the surviving entity comes through. Could take months, maybe even a year. It’s trickier when the top honchos are bringing together into one group the best and the brightest from both sides but still need to chop off some parts to fit and refine most in the moulds prepared for them. Job security is a rare commodity nowadays, particularly in this ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.
Even exemplary contributors who have given several years of top-notch service can be removed without much fanfare. It’s always a tough call, this I understand. I’m certain most people who wield this power mean well and some even openly proclaim to disdain using it. But I still wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of men in charge to lay people off. But that’s how the corporate world moves. Small fries like me ride along with the changes, wishing I can somehow keep my place in the organization.