By the time I came in, I was soaked; I barely had time to pull off my sopping jacket before my manager’s manager came to my desk, his countenance haggard, face wrought with defeat. This normally loquacious fellow had but two words for me: “Let’s go.”

And so I followed him, past rows and increasingly empty rows of cubicles, to a deserted office overlooking the tempestuous Hudson. My first boss and mentor was already seated, a grave expression also on his face.

They kept it short and sweet. “So as you’ve heard, Barclays has been doing some cutbacks, as part of the reorganization. Unfortunately, you’re going to be one of the ones impacted by this change.”

Impacted? I almost asked how these “changes” would affect our daily operations. Then reality began to sink in, and I realized that this was the epitaph for my career.

My boss’s manager went on to explain: “This was a decision made at the highest levels – way above us.” He himself is an SVP, so I started to understand just how rough the whole process had been. “We fought and fought, but these cuts are pretty much cutting into the muscle and bone of the organization.”

And so, after much speculation, wishin’ and hopin’, and uncertainty, I am unemployed. For real.

I shook both their hands and grinned. “Well guys, it’s been fun. Thanks for having me on your team for my…very short career.” Then, leaving them a bit bewildered at my serenity, I went down to the HR office to claim my severance package – what we’ve lovingly dubbed the Blue Folder of Death.

How do I really feel about it? Earlier, I compared losing a job to the breakup of a serious relationship or marriage – hour for hour, a 9 to 5 job makes up 23% of the week. So of course there’s some degree of emotional investment, which is definitely not FDIC insured. There’s an inevitable sense of loss, but also a relief that the uncertainty is gone, things having been decided for you.

And honestly – we just went through the world’s largest bankruptcy! Nothing much can shock me anymore; it’s a wonder I was around for as long as I was. By buying Lehman, keeping (and paying for) us for nearly a month, and then letting us go, Barclays has effectively bankrolled my severance. Very charitable of them, I must say!

So what will I be doing with myself now? Catching up on sleep of course, and all the reading I’ve been meaning to do. Perhaps I’ll have some time to brush up on PHP and finally make some changes to this blog. And, most importantly, several of my friends have commented that this is life’s way of telling me move on – to my dreams of creative writing, perhaps. Whatever I decide, it sure is nice to hold the reins to my life once more.

My boss sent me one such note after a particularly grueling business meeting, just as I was about to head for lunch. As it turns out, he was displeased I chose to telecommute the day before, when supposedly he had asked me to be in the office. Puzzled, and slightly annoyed, I fired back, saying that I had gotten no such request, and that if he needed me on-site, he should have been clearer in his communication. Curtly, he asserted that I am always expected be in the office (1.5 hours from my house) whenever possible.

Things rapidly devolved from there. He all but accused me of insubordination, and I charged him with pointless micromanagement. The tension was thick enough to strangle the both of us. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the swan song of my career.

Would you believe that up until that point, we hadn’t exchanged a single spoken word?

Personally, I think Instant Messaging is one of the crowning achievements of the Internet – allowing us to network real-time with our colleagues and buddies, whether they be in another continent or another room down the hall. For quick questions, chewing the cud, and making lunch plans, it’s hard to beat, especially if you think and type as quickly as I do. The problem is, like any other communication medium, it has its limits, and failing to realize this can have disastrous consequences.

IM’s biggest shortcoming? It absolutely sucks for nonverbal communication. In interpersonal communication, body language, tone of voice and other cues are just as important as the words themselves (many say they make up to 93% of your message, though this is probably an exaggeration and heavily disputed). In any event, an IM conversation provides us with only the words, and a few choice emoticons with which to crudely approximate our state of mind. That’s not such a big issue if you’re asking a colleague what he thought of the Dodgers game last night, but for critical conversations, such as receiving feedback from your boss, it’s like listening blindfolded, with one of your ears covered.

When our brain can’t detect the subtext of a conversation, it will attempt to approximate one – either from our existing knowledge of the other person, or (as happens very often) making it up completely. In that moment, I imagined by boss – towering over me with laser-focused eyes, peering into my soul, finding me wanting, and pointing a finger in judgment. I can only speculate as to what he saw – a defiant, intimidating, big black guy, with folded arms and a glare to cut diamonds. Fortunately, we decided to take this conversation on the phone, and as soon as we heard each other’s voices, we realized just how badly we had misunderstood each other. Things got easier from there, and needless to say, the dispute was resolved much more amicably.

The moral is simple – important conversations deserve the full clarity of face-to-face communication, or at the very least, a call on the phone. Not only will you be more likely to understand the other person, but it’s much harder to be evil when you can hear the person at the other end.

And of course, there’s always the pleasant smell of a few green ones in the wallet. Nothing wrong with that, of course.

But here’s an interesting thought experiment – how much are you really getting paid for all those working hours?

If you’re an hourly worker, the answer is fairly obvious. But what if you’re salaried? Then things get a bit more interesting. One might think that someone off the clock necessarily has it better, but being the brutally direct engineer I am, I prefer to let the math speak for itself:

Your Hourly Rate = (Total Compensation) / (Hours Per day * Days Per week * Total Weeks Per Year)

Your Total Compensation should include your base salary, as well as any fat, juicy bonuses that might be heading your way (or not). Your Hours Per Day should probably be a moderate estimate – on one hand, you may not be at the grindstone every second of every day, but your time at the office is still valuable. Your Days Per Week should take into account the days you’re really at work – this might include weekend support rotations. As for your Total Weeks Per Year, subtract your vacation days (usually 2-3 work week’s worth, in my industry).

Plug and chug. The answer might be surprising.

Disclaimer: This very rough equation obviously doesn’t take into account health benefits, stock options, gym membership, free strawberries and muffins, or any of the little things that sweeten up jobs. And of course, comparing two industries is like comparing apples and oranges – hour by hour, I might make the same amount of money as the driver of a concrete mixer, but I’d make a terrible truck driver.

But if you compare your job situation to that of your friends and peers, you might be able to see if you’re being fairly compensated for all of your efforts. Salaries alone usually don’t tell the whole story.

“Why?” I asked. At the time, it seemed like we couldn’t have been in a better spot – a lean (6 person), innovative, highly visible team who never had a dearth of interesting projects and people to work with.

She shrugged. “My life…things here just haven’t gone as I expected.”

One year later, those words are still with me. Having been through many a rough spot myself, I can sympathize – in fact, I almost found myself repeating them to my boss in a protracted “discussion” about my working schedule. So why were my colleague and I – successful financial software developers, suddenly so dissatisfied?

The answer is really quite simple – In giving our lives to the firm, we began to starve ourselves – creatively, socially; we began to hear the echo within our increasingly vacant lives.

This past Wednesday, we met up for the first time since her departure – ironically enough, right near Wall Street, at the row of cramped bars/restaurants on Broad. Ducking out of the rain, wading through a sea of exhausted Goldman employees, we sat down, sharing bruschetta, a vegetarian pizza, and stories from the past year. What did I tell her? Two weeks after the bankruptcy, I’ve gotten pretty good at narrating the tale.

Her story was even more interesting. In the year since she left, her life has improved exponentially – she gets out more, she’s found a boyfriend, as well as another passion – raising chickens! Her new job may not be as fast-paced as those in the financial sector, but at least she gets out on time! Everything in her demeanor – her placid eyes, her laid-back smile – gave me a glimpse into the satisfaction of someone living life on her own terms.

It makes me wonder – what if I had the courage to suddenly make a change in my life. Can I transform my creative life while keeping this career, or is it time to pack it up and move on to something less…stifling?

Just a semblance. We have been trying to resume our normal development schedule. The thing is, once your work ethic has been damaged (by not knowing if you’re going to be there tomorrow), it is very difficult to repair, and act like nothing ever happened. This I had to explain to my boss, as he asked me why I was running behind schedule with one of our applications.

Mergers and acquisitions are rarely ever seamless, especially when the two Firms are in such a similar line of business, separated by national boundaries and corporate culture. On the other hand, I have good reason to suspect that there is a good future for my career here, should I decide to stay. Who knows? The next few weeks won’t be easy. But an insatiable curiosity drives me to stick it out until the end of our story.

Leaked internal memo: all conference rooms are now to include mandatory tea and crumpets!

I, for one, welcome the new British Overlords!

Saturday, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see you in my life!

You’ve finally brought closure to a madcap week filled with more drama, suspense, and uncertainty than an episode of 24. And when all is said and done – I’m still standing, though for how long can be anybody’s guess.  

For the moment, it seems like we (North American business/IT staff) have our jobs, or at the very least a severance package – Barclay’s seems to have agreed to hold onto the company’s employees for 90 days, or else pay the employees 20% of their salaries in severance. (This is all a matter of public record, so don’t worry – I haven’t been meeting anyone in parking garages after dark).

Perhaps even more interesting is that Barclays wanted the firm’s employees as much as the, business, data centers, and office buildings – it has identified a list of 200 “key” employees, and 8 “critical” employees – the majority from the former group and all from the latter group who are required to stay for the deal to go through. Who are the Lehman 208? Most likely some of the top traders and bankers – I won’t delude myself into thinking any lowly Java developers are included on the list! They will probably be paid a king’s ransom to stay, whereas we, the IT staff, who built the tools that made them so successful, can only watch and wait.

A good deal? It could be worse. It gives Barclay’s a chance to figure out what the heck to do with more than 10,000 new workers – the reorganization will be long, and probably very messy. It gives the employees their current salaries and/or severance packages – all very helpful while finding a new gig. And it’s a heck of a lot better than what the London workers got – the London headquarters was all but stripped of cash just before the bankruptcy, and the administrators actually had to borrow money to make payroll!

And thus, the “one firm” breaks itself apart – the vultures of Wall Street dividing the carcass among themselves.

This, my friends, is the reason you do not give your lives to a company. Of course, as a matter of personal and professional pride, you do your best at any task you are given, but when the rough times come, who are the people who will stand with you in the lion’s den? Only our loved ones – friends, family – those whose loyalty is not dictated by a balance sheet. Certainly not the executives, who probably liquidated their positions as the ship sank. Or senior management, which was absolutely clueless this week. 

After many a 10-12 hour day in the office, all they have for me is a note from the CEO claiming he “feels horrible.”

Meanwhile, in response to yesterday’s news, the mood of the office has perceptibly shifted. Most of us seem to agree that since Barclays has purchased the company’s headquarters, data centers, and Capital Markets units (including the investment bank), they will most likely want the IT behind these operations as well.

Of course, this is all purely speculation (and our wishful thinking). In the meantime, the boss has asked me to resume our development work – this is all very well, because frankly, I’ve been running out of ways to kill time!

One final note of delicious irony. According to the Wall Street Journal, Barclays paid about $1.5 billion for the firm’s headquarters and data centers, but only $250 million for the business. So, after 158 years of independent operation, the business is worth less than A-Rod’s contract. Even the headquarters and the servers the business ran on are worth more! Good job, Mr. Fuld.

In case you’ve been living under a rock (or haven’t been checking Bloomberg/CNBC every fifteen minutes like I have), you’ll probably recall that the last two days have been a bloodbath for Wall Street – Lehman Brothers filed Chapter 11 Bankruptcy, Merrill Lynch was sold for $50bn to Bank of America, and insurance giant AIG is on the rocks.

Which means, for the moment, that I am out of a job.

Oh, this isn’t to say that none of us saw this coming. Last Friday, my co-workers and I joked about whether or not we should even bother coming into the office on Monday. But in retrospect, most of us were expecting some deal to be reached over the weekend, at the great Wall Street powwow led by the Fed and the CEOs of the financial giants. With the Fed unwilling to guarantee assets, nobody dared strike a deal. So things didn’t work out as expected.

Which begs the question – where do I go from here?

At least I won’t starve. Unlike many American households, I’ve actually managed to squirrel away something for a rainy day. Still, there remains the issue of health insurance – like so many uninsured Americans, if I get seriously ill or injured, my financial life and credit are pretty much done for. Another incentive to stay healthy!

These are just a few things I’m mulling over, sitting at my cube for probably the very last time. You know, losing a job is like going through a break-up – even if it was a pain in the rear sometimes, losing that stability and routine still stings. Plus, it forces me to rethink the future, which I thought I had pinned down for the next few years.

We’ll see what happens. My mood at the moment? Cautiously optimistic 

With that in mind, the first thing I learned is to treat every day of the project like it’s your last. Of course, given today’s economic realities, that may well be the case, but that doesn’t mean walking as if the Sword of Damocles is dangling above your head. Rather, it means developing with the realization that someone may (in fact, probably will) have to take it over on short notice.

“But isn’t that the new guy’s problem?” you might ask. That could be true if you’re leaving the shop, but often times, sudden restructuring or business needs dictate that you switch “hats”, as it were. Or perhaps you’re simply looking to move on to greater, more interesting things. In any event, before you head out the door, you might have to engage in a little something called Knowledge Transfer. The word still strikes chills into my heart.

In short, this involves explaining your code, why you coded it that way, and what you might have to do to extend it in the future. Sounds good in theory, right? The problem is that all this information is compressed into the timespan of a few days to a week, meaning the new developer won’t remember a bit of it three weeks later, when a critical release is on the horizon, and you’re knee-deep in your new responsibilities. Months later, you may still be fielding e-mails about the more esoteric parts of your last project. Put another way, it becomes like the child that lives in the basement, never leaves the nest, and drinks all the beer.

So do everyone a favor – make your design and/or code self-evident, imagining yourself explaining it to someone else down the line. That usually involves following the Best Practice for the tools you’re using, and making sure it just makes sense.