The Josh & Josh Pink Slip Diaries

Perhaps it’s best to start by harkening back to Fall 2007. You’ll perhaps remember this as the lovely autumnal season in which Josh and I were both dumped unceremoniously by our decade-older boyfriends. Josh K. got his boyfriend pink slip first, on a Sunday night around 8 p.m., and I was there to talk with him afterward and sift through the charred remains.

Then, two weeks later, on a Sunday night around 8 p.m., my boyfriend came over to my new apartment and—as the British are wont to say—made me redundant, at least in the realm of Boyfriend Land. And Josh was there afterward to sift through another set of relationship debris with me.

So. Two very single Joshes, two weeks apart from each other, almost to the minute.

But at least we had each other. We did the Ben & Jerry’s and jammies thing. And then we did the “I Will Survive” sing-alongs. And then time passed and we just plain old got over ‘em.

But now, of course, we fast-forward to the end of 2008 and the beginning of 2009.

Just before Thanksgiving Josh K. was given the heave-ho at work. (And then he was mugged. Which was just the cherry on top, really.) I listened and empathized and rehashed it all with him late into the night until we both almost went hoarse.

And then, a few weeks later—on a Wednesday at 4:45 p.m.—I got a phone call asking me to be at a meeting the next morning at 9:15 with an executive I knew well and liked—someone who oversaw several magazines at my company—but I knew immediately—immediately—what the call meant. Especially when the assistant who called nervously said, “And I don’t know what the meeting’s about—I don’t have any details or anything—but if you can just make sure and be there on time…”

Translation? Toast. Done. Finito. You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes, you know?

I went home. I cried for a few minutes. I called my mom, I called Josh, and I called a few co-workers. There were attempts to dissuade me from the belief that the next morning would be my last day at work, that I wasn’t about to be laid off, that I was in fact about to be asked to embark on some fabulous special project or something.

But, um, no. Not so much.

The next morning, in an executive boardroom in a plush leather swivel chair, I sat down with seven other employees and two HR women. We were given the news right away—rip the Band-Aid off quickly, right?—and then handed our severance packages, and asked to turn in our building access cards and any company credit cards and phones on the spot.

And that was it, really. I went back to my desk, packed a box, said goodbye to my co-workers and shared a ton of hugs, and by lunchtime I was sitting at Two Boots in Grand Central with a fellow former co-worker, scarfing down slices of Sicilian pizza and guzzling a party-sized Diet Coke.

Getting laid off is, in some ways, like the moment of a breakup. You have the option at the breakup to cry and shout and yell or argue or generally make a Courtney Love smeared mascara mess of the whole thing. Or you can be a classy lady and show up and listen to what's said, kiss him on the cheek, give him that lingering look with a side of doe eyes, and be on your way with a minimum of words. Cry and mope in private, sure, and air all the dirty laundry you want to your BFF—I mean, that’s practically a birthright. But I’m all about the clean ‘n’ classy exit strategy in actual practice. And so that’s what I did when I got laid off. Because going the full Britney-with-an-umbrella on the way out wasn’t going to solve or change or help anything.

And the truth is this: I didn’t feel the need to make a scene on my way out, anyway. I truly enjoyed working with the editors I spent my days with, I liked and respected and had good laughs with my boss, and the editor-in-chief and the magazine as a whole gave me some fantastic experiences I may not have gotten at another magazine (especially at my age), all of which made coming to work everyday something that was actually enjoyable. I also knew if they had the money they would have kept me, but they didn't, so they couldn’t.

At my company more than 200 people lost their jobs that day. I had watched the magazine bloodletting stories pour out before my layoff, and I’ve seen them continue steadily since. It’s not pretty out there right now—in the magazine industry or elsewhere, really—and it might not be for some time.

But the lucky thing is that the magazine gave me a package that allows me enough time to recalibrate and figure out some freelance stuff and perhaps another position somewhere else in the meantime. And also, mercifully, it gives me a chance to see what other abilities I might be able to plug in somewhere else out there in the career world.

So, does it kinda suck? Sure. Would I rather be back with my co-workers and plugging away on the next big story? Of course. But I can’t. So instead I’m taking this little mound of lemons and I’m going to make a freaking pitcher of lemonade and lounge on my metaphorical veranda and sip that bittersweet drink with a bendy straw and work my phone with a lacquered fingernail until the battery overheats and we'll see what’s in store for me, and for both of us, next.

Comments

[Brian]

Hang in there Joshes. Layoffs suck. I went through two last year alone. It's good you got a severance. Good companies do that. You are both talented and resilient and will land on your feet.

[Bryan]

Joshes. I think we need martinis...and boyfriends.

When Lehman tanked, Barclays took over, and my entire group was axed, I was both excited and terrified. The idea of being jobless in New York City was a bit unnerving, but realizing that I was in a now or never moment, even while the world around me seemed to be going down the proverbial toilet, was somewhat exciting. The severance from that crazy situation has allowed me to follow a dream. And even though I have no idea where it's taking me, or if it’s a dream I’m meant to follow, it's amazing to know that as a result of this unbelievably crappy situation, I’ll never have to look back and say "I wonder what would have happened if I did ‘X’." I'm doing ‘X’. And that's pretty damn fantastic.

Hang in there. Keep doing ‘X’. Hopefully you'll find it's everything you hoped it would be, and much much more.

[Scott]

I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about your recent bad news.

On the one hand, it's awful what you've been through, and you poor things deserve a hug.

On the other hand, I can't help but be reminded of a time that made your blog truly endearing. Back when you guys first moved to New York, were struggling to find jobs, struggling to find places to live. Not that I wish those times on you again, but I do think that's when your inspiring, charming and resilient selves came shining through. It's when you wrote and photographed your best stuff.

Eventually you got settled. Stories of real life turned into stories of Fire Island, fancy parties, and fancier celebrity interviews. Sure, I was happy for you. But admit it, even you got bored with the material.

You've proven to yourselves and to all of us that you can (and will) get past this and come out the other side for the better. As you do, just remember to be true to those two guys from Minnesota who had a dream -- 'cause those guys knew how to kick some ass.

[The Gay Recluse]

As a fellow media worker (book publishing), your layoff story only added to the nerves I think we've all been feeling for the past few months; but the grace with which you handled it is both a tribute and an inspiration!

[Todd]

Long time listener, first time caller: My magazine had layoffs before Christmas as well. I survived but my nerves are still shot. Your story hits close to home. I wish you both luck. You're talented chaps. You'll bounce back.

[Doug]

It's so weird reading your layoff stories. I was laid off at the end of September (finance casualty). I was the first of about 15 that day and was shocked and not shocked at the same time. I'm still looking but don't hold any bitterness because I hated that job. I just wish there wasn't so much competition out there.

[Roy]

Oh Josh! I'm SOOOO Sorry you guys! I thought things were fabulous for you guys!! They will turn around soon enough! Keep your chin up Josh!

[Robert]

Sorry to hear about the job situation. As for boyfriends, well, I'm probably cynical, but they can be over-rated and a lot of work. It's great that you two have each other.