Because one of the things I do best is to dwell and obsess about things that have happened, I’ve spent much of today thinking about the teleconference from this morning where a client told me I was no longer needed.

Again, I’m not at all upset about his change in direction, and I’m actually amused (in a non-condescending way).

The layoff was exceptionally well done:

1. The Set Up
   A few days ago, he sent me an email to set up a meeting to discuss [name of newsletter]. He does this every month, but he usually says he wants to discuss the [name of month] [name of newsletter] issue. I found it strange that he said he wanted to discuss [name of newsletter] alone.
2. The Fishing Expedition
   My client and I are regularly chatty, but the beginning of his conversation seemed a little pointed.
   “Hey, Beth. How have things been?”
   “Great. Thanks for asking.”
   “And you’re busy these days? Your business is booming?”
   “It is, actually. I’ve got quite a few projects going right now.”
   [What would he have done if I had answered, "Well, things are quite slow actually. I'm sure glad I have you guys!"]
3. The Jist
   “Listen, Beth. We’ve been thinking of ways to make this process easier, and we’ve decided to go with an educational feed group that can provide content on a regular basis.”
4. The Justification
   “Like you told [name of supervisor], you would have to have a Ph.D. in [name of industry] to be able to write all the relevant content we need. We’re going to go with an industry expert group that can provide us content every month without a learning curve.”
5. The Reassurance
   “Now this doesn’t mean that we’re not going to keep using you. We want you to continue to write the chairperson’s column every month and other articles as necessary. And we’d like to see a proposal for the public relations services.”
6. The Final Ego Stroke
   “I just want you to know that we’ve been really happy with your work, but we have to make this process less complicated.”

That’s all she wrote. He signed off with a friendly “I’ll be in touch soon.” The phone call was record length for us: 8 minutes, 9 seconds.

He was an expert fire-er. I’m applauding.