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| And my manager is 23 years old. |
It's not easy
looking for a new job at age fifty-seven. Actually, looking is the
easy part, it's the “finding” that's difficult. At the end of
September I left my job after twenty-eight years without the safety
net of another job to fall into. The company I worked for appeared to
be going downhill, and I didn't see business rebounding any time in
the future. I decided to cut my losses and pursue greener pastures,
and all the rest of those cliches people say when they are starting
over. I took a daring leap for someone my age. I had faith I'd land
on my feet in a better place – at least I kept telling myself that.
Most people
thought I was crazy for not having a job lined up before I left. My
supportive family and a few close friends stood by me and helped me
rationalize my decision. I put on a brave front, smiling when I said
I believed something better would come along. However, as my final
day at work approached, I wondered if I made the right decision. My
resume solicitations did not return the multiple employment
opportunities I was expecting. In my mind I already turned down
several positions waiting for the right one to come along.
Unfortunately, there were no offers coming in for me to reject. I
didn't have a Plan B.
As luck would have
it, I got a call from a new company on my last day at my old job. I
bid a hasty farewell to my coworkers. I left my goodbye party and
headed straight to a job interview. My fears of unemployment had been
unfounded. My interview went well and I was asked to start a new job
a week from that Monday. The timing was perfect. I had a week to
decompress from my old job. I was relieved and extremely happy at
this sudden turn of events. All of my positive thinking paid off.
I haven't been
“the new guy” in the workplace for twenty-eight years. In fact,
one of the new employees at my old company was called “the new guy”
for two-and-a-half years after he started working there. Now I
was that guy, and believe me, it's not a title anyone enjoys
carrying.
Most of the staff
in my new office is younger than I am. I always felt young for my
age, but that was before I was working in a department full of
twenty-somethings. The first week felt like the first day of school.
Am I wearing the right clothes? Do I really look as old as this
mirror is telling me? Is my hair okay? On day two, I brought in my
“grandpa” sweater to hang on the coat rack because the new office
feels like it's kept at 32 degrees year round. Maybe it's just my
thinning blood.
My new manager is
awesome, as most people newspaper workers are. She helped me with my
transition from new employee to regular staff member. I'm finding it
difficult to match the names and faces of my unfamiliar co-workers.
The staff is large and there are multiple shifts, resulting in
meeting quite a few people in a short time. There's Ashley and
Alexis, Brittany and Britney, as well as two Dianes. it's impossible
to keep everyone straight in my mind despite using all the memory
tricks in my arsenal, but I'm trying.
Now that I've been
at my new place of employment for a couple of weeks, I am starting to
settle in. I may not be “the new guy” for very long. The company
is expanding and with every new hire I am no longer “new” myself.
A year from now I'll know everyone on a first name basis, and I'll
know something about each of them. At most jobs you spend more time
with people in your office than you do with your own family.
In a month or two,
I'll know where all the stairways lead to so I won't look lost while
walking down the hallway. Eventually I'll be able to drive to work
with my eyes closed. Soon I'll recognize all the faces of the people
I work with and I'll know what their job function is. Until then,
I'll enjoy my time as “the new guy”. That sounds so much better
than being known as “the old guy”.
