It was my last day.  It was Tuesday.  I had turned in my two week notice the day before.  I walked to work, excited at my upcoming prospects, and thinking about the work I needed to collect and organize for my soon to be ex-employers.  I wanted to make sure to leave them in the best situation possible, considering I was leaving soon.  I had lots to do, and was sitting in a location that was much healthier for me.  It was not that I had been sitting somewhere with mold, or tight quarters that made me hit my shins every time I turned around.  I had been sitting for most of my 9 months, in the same office with my direct supervisor.  The person who I had recently submitted a complaint of harassment against.  I was moved to a different area.  They conducted an investigation.  At the end I was given the verdict.  It was something along the lines of: There is no evidence proving that these events occurred.

But I digress.  It was my last day.  I arrive at work, go next door to the coffee shop and grab my coffee.  Back at my desk I start snacking on my two pieces of mozzarella string cheese, sip my coffee, and get to work reviewing emails.  Chatter in this new area I’m in is positive, friendly, and inviting.  I’m feeling great, and partially sad that I will not get a chance to work with such great people in the future.  I have a meeting this morning, reviewing my work and making sure everyone is up to speed on the projects I’ve been working on.  My supervisor is incredibly positive, and impressed with my work.  While showing all the work I’ve put in, I end up getting complimented so much I could almost imagine that what’s happened over the past month was a dream.  I go to lunch, and return.  Sitting at my computer getting started again I am called over by HR to discuss, what I thought, was the general practices of employees leaving this particular organization.

I was handed a piece of paperwork indicating that I was paid in full, and could now stop working immediately.  I was told, that I had been placed on administrative leave for the remainder of my two weeks.  “We will help you collect your things and you can,”  they say.  A bit flustered but under control I stand up, grab my last paycheck, and start toward my temporary location in the other building.  

Suffice it to say I grabbed my things, called my boyfriend to come pick me up, and left.  All the while half of my coworkers were sitting there with shocked and sad faces watching as I collected my things.  Despite the 9 months of stress that I had been enduring, and what I thought was bullying from my direct supervisor, while walking away I could not stop laughing.


They knew that I was going to be leaving, as I had already turned in my two week notice.  So why the need to usher me out the door even faster?  Not only ushering me out, but paying me for my time to boot.  Why would you do something like that?  I mean, if I was someone else, someone who came in with bad intentions, it might be more realistic.  I’m not.  I’m an intelligent person who, for one reason or another, started too low on the totem pole.  I tend to intimidate some people in the places I work.  I get too much done too fast.

During my time at this job I was continuously criticized for not meeting expectations in my workplace.  I was placed on two separate forms of ‘improvement plans’ or ‘probation’.  After some rough self reflection it still didn’t make any sense to me.  I’ve always excelled in school and I’ve been given lots of positive feedback from my previous employers about my quality of work and the expediency in which I complete my tasks.  I’ve always been appreciated as a person who gets things done.  A person who works hard, and does a good job.  


Why would they have put me on administrative leave?  As far as I know it is not corporate policy to do so.  Why not fire me if they thought I was a poor employee?  That and millions of other questions were going through my head.  They still are.  I’m now faced with being unemployed in this down economy, in a state that has one of the highest unemployment rates.  Why am I telling you all this?  Why does anyone care?  Because I feel I’m like many young Americans out there, thrust into unemployment but still desperately wanting to make something of myself.  

What am I going to do with myself?  I’m going to put myself in a situation where I’m consistently challenged and hopefully change the trajectory of my life.  I’m going to help build a business, learn to be self employed, work from home, and attempt to create something amazing.  I’m going to learn how to program.  Here is my story.