“If you want, you can still work today, so you did not show up for nothing” he said, while chewing on his toothpick, “but this day will be your last. You’re done.”
Five years I had worked at the nursery. Every Saturday, every holiday, and many winter evening hours were spent there. I loved the plants, knowing all the species and how to grow them, prune them, guide them, care for them. I think the plants loved me, too…
I was in shock.
“Wait, what? I’m fired? Why?”
“There have been complaints. And it’s not the first time.”
“Well at least have the decency to tell me who complained, and what about…” I said.
“F. has complained about your work for weeks. You don’t seem to take the job seriously. And you were late every day this week.”*
F. had disliked me since forever. I always strived for efficiency. He hated me for it. I would improve processes and especially speed them up. Never with a loss of quality. I hate doing a poor job. The guilt I feel for delivering poor work always outweighs potential benefit.
My efficiency reflected poorly on F.’s own performance.
I had to be eliminated.
——————————————————————————————————————* I was in the process of moving, because of which I would be 15 minutes late for a week or so. I had explained this to my boss and he had agreed to it. So it was a bullshit argument, but very conveniently timed.