Fire, Meet Butt

When I accepted my position with the company I work for almost three years ago, I said that it would be a temporary thing. You know, until Brendan got older. Until we got our bearings in Putnam County. Until, until, until …

It’s not a bad job. My boss is based in Pennsylvania and pops up maybe once every other month. I set my own schedule and, as long as my work gets done, he leaves me alone. The people I work with are amazing; genuinely nice people. But – and there’s always a but – I took a $40,000 pay cut in order to accept the job. And, the work has never been challenging to me. At the time, I figured it was worth it to cut 2.5 hours out of my daily commute (which translates directly to spending more time with my family and less wear and tear on me).

Then, last year, the insurance market softened and my company began cutting its losses. It cut out almost every perk it had ever given. Cars and Blackberries were taken back. Administrative assistants were laid off. At the time, I remember vaguely thinking, “this might be a good time to look for another job.” Frankly, though, I was too comfortable to do so.

The next quarter it was announced that, while the company had made a profit, it would no longer be sharing them with the workforce in the form of bonuses. I groused about this to my boss, who had promised me that I would make back most of my pay cut in the generous bonuses the company always paid out. He said that this was a “temporary setback” and we’d be back to getting our liberal bonuses next year.

Then a few months ago, an e-mail came out that they would no longer be providing coffee in the break room. Alrighty then. My father (otherwise known as “El Cheapo”) provided coffee in the break room of his auto repair shop, but this Fortune 500 company can’t provide coffee?? Then another e-mail: no more paper products, either (i.e. paper towels, plates, etc.). The people at my office continued to smile and brought in their own coffee, plates, utensils and napkins.

Last week, it was announced that we’d be getting no bonuses in 2010 due to the company’s failure to meet its financial goals (although it still made enough of a profit to pay the outgoing CEO over $20 million for stock options).

Then, as of today, everyone has to keep a timesheet. I haven’t kept a timesheet in over 10 years. And I have never heard of so-called “executives” of companies keeping timesheets.

In “One Day My Soul Just Opened Up,” Iyanla Vanzant said that one needs to listen when Life gives you subtle hints. If Life is knocking gently at your door and you’re ignoring it, it will knock harder and harder. One day, it may even knock your door off its hinges; one way or the other, you need to respond. Preferably before things escalate.

Granted, these “changes” are, in the bigger scheme of things, relatively minor. I have a job; there are so many out there that do not. But the truth is that there are so many things I want to do; none of which involve insurance. Yet, for the past 7 years, I have kept myself mired in the insurance world, because it was the easiest, safest, thing for me to do. Perhaps Life’s insistent knocking is telling me that it is time to move on to bigger and better things. Perhaps the annoyance of time sheets and having no napkins to wipe your hands after lunch is simply the fire that I needed under my butt to get me moving.