Economic Crisis: A Day in the Life

6:05am: My alarm rings; I hit snooze.

6:15am: My alarm rings; I hit snooze.

6:25am: My alarm rings; I hit snooze ... but I wake up enough to remember that its Thursday, I must get up soon.

6:35am: My alarm rings; I hit snooze. But this time I actually do get out of bed.

8:19am: In my usual style, I am late. Parking is always gnarly at this time of day. I cruise by my favourite parking area next to Emirates Towers in hopes that there will still be space and low and behold, there is! Lots of space.

One of the silver linings of the recent downsizing of Dubai is this: when an employee's job is terminated in the UAE, so too is their residency. As companies down-size en masse, so too are employee's visas expiring and they must leave. The mass exodus of people means less cars and a noticeable easing of traffic and parking. A small relief for those of us who remain.

8:33am: The Design Manager walks through our department. He is dressed in black. The Production Manager (my boss) arrives also wearing his funeral best.

8:53am: An impromptu meeting for all the Production staff. As we make our way to the conference room, my Iraqi friend makes an insightful reference to the Tom Hanks movie, "The Green Mile" with one notable difference: our carpet is (or once was) burgundy. Though recently cleaned, it is visibly "mature" beyond its life expectancy but not likely to be replaced any time soon.

It would seem this week's rumour mill and my 'Black Thursday' theory are correct and as a group, we are confronted with the reality of it: we cannot escape the effects of the economic crisis. There will be changes. Expect lay-offs. LOTS of lay-offs. Half of the people in the room by the end of the day. For those who remain: salary reduction. Throughout the day, one by one, each individual can expect a letter from management and a private meeting which reveals their fate.

And so begins the wait.

9:17am: We return to our desks. My fellow Job Captain and I are quietly joking about the letter scenario, likening it to American Idol auditions: the contestants who get the axe leave dejected and humiliated; the winners emerge jumping and cheering and waving their paper in the air.

9:20am: I had a "take-away" Starbucks this morning so no cup to clean. I begin cleaning my desk, sorting, filing, purging. There are no guarantees but there is comfort in tying up loose ends.

9:31am: Since my scale grew legs several months ago, I frequently borrow one from my Lebanese friend. Yesterday he asked me a strange question: do we need to return the "goody bag" we all got when we were hired? Today he asks me if I want a kettle and a clothes iron ... he is downsizing, he says. Come on Dude, I say, you haven't even received your letter of truth yet so how do you know?! I find out later that he had advance notice as to what his letter would say.

10:42am: A long time employee is beckoned to the office. There is discussion. He returns to his desk and he appears calm and normal.

Since my stapler grew legs several months ago, I go to borrow his; we share a chuckle over the color ... hot pink! (apparently he is comfortable with his masculinity). It is only when he hands me the stapler along with a box of paperclips, post-it notes, a needle nose pliers (huh?) and the drawings he has been working on that I realize all is not well. But he is not fazed. He is busily cleaning his desk and explains that our Manager has probably found him an alternate position within the organization for which he is most grateful. I have no idea if I should accept the items from him, I have not yet received my letter of truth.

11:15am: My fellow Job Captain goes to the office. He leaves. He doesn't look happy.

12:21pm: An email from the Office Manger; there will be an office gathering in "the pit" at 4 o'clock. If one didn't know the situation, it would seem like a celebration. Rather strange.

1:23pm: Lunch. I rarely stop for lunch, opting instead to stay at my desk and continue working. But today I have my sandwich on the Terrace in the company of the other long faces from the office, some of which already know their fate. Ironically (or perhaps by design), the lone Production Department casualty from the previous Black Thursday stops by to say hello. He is well but his wife was recently laid off and they are now preparing to move back to India.

2:06pm: Return from lunch. Nothing much happening in our department. The wait continues. So does the cleaning.

2:13pm: In my bottom drawer, I discover a small bag of Inukshuk pins from my Yellowknife friend. I had forgotten about them! She gave them to me with the intent that I give them away as gifts and today seems like as good a day as any. I explain several times where the pins come from and what is an Inukshuk (and then repeat the word "Inukshuk"; I'm not even sure I pronounce it correctly but no one here knows any better). On an otherwise gloomy day, it brings a few smiles.

3:25pm: "I'm out" ... the message from my Engineer friend and Hong Kong travel companion.

3:29pm: My friend Sofia and I lament the loss of our Engineer friend. Sofia already knows she is safe. I am still waiting.

3:33pm: The draftsman who sits beside me comes to my desk. My scissors grew legs several months ago and I frequently borrow his. Seems he is now bequeathing them to me. I tell him that I am so sorry to hear that he is leaving but he replies that he is not sad. He understands the situation and was expecting it. He will be returning to the Philippines.

3:36pm: An incoming call from my colleague in Abu Dhabi. We are very close to the end of a lengthy and particularly arduous process with the Municipality; he has one more request to complete this, he will email the details in the next few days. Uh, I dunno, I say, you better send it today.

3:52pm: Seems the private meetings are running a bit longer than expected so to speed up the process, we are now facing the "letter squad" in groups. Four of us are summoned together, including my favourite draftsman. We are in the second category, we will be staying. A collective sigh of relief. A salary cut is the lesser of the two evils.

4:13pm: Hor d'erves and a speech from the CEO. It is gracious and apologetic. Samosas make a suitable comfort food.

4:54pm and onwards: a steady stream of good bye's, good luck's and keep in touch'es. No one is surprised but for some this will mean certain hardship. Some are already looking for other work, some will go home.

My Iraqi friend brought his camera for one last group photo. I am losing my favourite Arabic tutor. Just yesterday he taught me a new Arabic word, "KHattah!" ("shit!")

5:10pm: Another call from my colleague in Abu Dhabi. He has one more task for me. I inform him that I will indeed be back on Sunday and will complete it then. We chat for a few minutes, seems that in total, about 40 people were released. A sizable number for a company our size.

5:35pm: A few of the survivors linger in a dwindling group. My fellow Job Captain who had left earlier returns and enquires if I have moved into his office yet??? I say, no. I was eyeing it up a few months ago when, under much better circumstances, he was vacating. But not today.

5:50pm: I head home. Twas a long, crazy day. I am tired and going to sleep early.

Sunday will be a new normal around here.