round and round

Empty chairs at empty cubes and the memory of footsteps echo down the deserted hallways.  So few people now fill the large space that their presence seems more out of place than the absence of all who used to join them.  They are blemishes.  They are the joyous and guilt-ridden, having survived yet another round of layoffs.  There turn will come, though, and the weight of that knowledge hangs over them, growing heavier with each ticking second.  Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  In this industry it is only a matter of when, not if, they too will be ushered to the door and sent looking elsewhere, for no other reason than it looks good on the balance sheet to have a smaller headcount and new employees are cheaper than the experienced ones.

So the revolving door goes.

Eventually the chairs and cubes will fill up again and the building will be bustling with activity.  Chatter, pings, squeaks, and the constant clacking of keys will add to the ambience of real steps passing through the corridors.  Then, in a reversal, the few stations that remain empty will stand out as the blemishes, as the reminders that this level of enterprise is only temporary and will be short-lived.  The enthusiasm of workers tackling new roles, sharing ideas, improving processes will flounder and stall.  Then the cubes will begin to empty again, sometimes in trickles and sometimes in floods of people being shown the door until once again only a few remain.

So the revolving door goes.