Perfect Karma

7 am. The alarm wailed and Jonah rolled over in his bed trying to escape the noise. Despite dawn breaking a new spring day behind the curtain, it still felt like the middle of the night to Jonah who was rolled up snug and warm in his duvet not willing to wake up to realities. In fact not willing to wake up at all.

Today was the day that Jonah was going to get sacked. HR had called him up out of the blue and arranged a meeting and that could only mean one thing. His P45 was already in the post and he’d be making an appointment at the job centre first thing on Monday morning.

Not that Jonah blamed them for firing him, he’d had it coming since the day he signed the contract. It was his own fault for even accepting the job in the first place. From day one he was so far out of his depth it was like one of those dreams where the swimming pool turns into the ocean and you realise you are at the mercy of the currents. He’d been thrashing around and treading water ever since. In order to hide his ineptitude he devised plans to do as little work as possible, while always looking busy. He got to work early and left late because he’d discovered that if no one else was around, no one could see you skive. Just by rolling up the sleeves on his tailored shirts it looked like he meant business. He walked with purpose as if matters were pressing, and he spoke with authority without ever really finishing a sentence or a thought. In meetings he discovered he was adept at rewording other people’s good ideas to make them look like his own and he was Olympic standard at recommending who tasks should be done by. ‘I think Martin would be perfect for this,’ he’d say in a way that made Martin look good and took the heat off himself.

But it was stressful, finding ways of doing nothing was becoming a full time job in itself.  And now it looked like his time had run out. It looked like people had realised that hanging his jacket on the back of an empty chair didn’t mean he was in a meeting, but meant he was in the loo playing candy crush. He’d blagged his way this far, but he could blag no further. 

Like a Bond villain welcoming 007 into his lair, he’d been expecting this day to arrive. There was sadness and regret mixed with relief. He clambered out of bed, threw on yesterday’s shirt, sprayed himself with aftershave in lieu of a shower and headed towards the guillotine, hoping the blade was sharp and the act would be quick and painless.

‘Mr Griffiths,’ why did HR staff always look like TV presenters? He’d never seen this woman before but she would not look out of place reading the news on Sky Sports. ‘You’ve been with the company 3 years now.’ Stop stating the bleeding obvious and release the blade, Jonah thought to himself. ‘And you’ve always shown a large amount of dedication to the company. This has not gone unnoticed and has been appreciated by everyone.’

Hang on a minute, Jonah thought, this sounded more like promotion talk. Jesus what would he do if they promoted him? He was only just staying afloat now but with extra ballast he would surely be dragged under. The stress of hiding his shortcomings would probably kill him. The HR woman was still listing his achievements. What the hell? Jonah thought and puffed out his chest. I’ve bluffed and faked my way this far, why not a bit further?

‘Anyway,’ The HR woman’s tone changed. ‘Despite all of this, it’s pretty clear that you’ve not reached your targets again this year and after last year’s warning, it leaves us with no choice but to let you go.’

The puff went out of Jonah’s chest, the woman hand completed blindsided him, she’d led him down the garden path. Maybe it was perfect karma because that was what he’d been doing to the company for the last three years.