Friday, 20 April 2012

The Resignation Letter

An evening out with the girls always turns into a rant about the office.  We each have our qualms.

One told the story of how she resigned.  When the day came that she was ready to quit, she drafted her letter of resignation, but she didn't just hand it in..  Every day that followed, she reprinted the letter with the current date, put it into a new envelope, and held onto it.  She sat ready for just the right moment  ...because, of course, when you're fed up with a workplace, you can't just hand in your letter of resignation without provocation.  Where would the fun be in that?

Oh, she waited .. and waited .. and without fail, when her abusive Director took what would turn out to be her final stab at her, my friend replied, "..just one moment, I need to get something from my desk."

This is how you stifle any concern that you were perhaps being erratic, or hasty.  How so?  Because you will be too busy riding the high from finally 'stabbing back'.  After a decade of taking a beating from your selfish, demanding, unreasonable boss, she doesn't expect you to leave.  She expects you to do what you always did: bend over and take it.

Now, what's the problem with leaving without provocation?  Well, you leave with doubt: the question of whether or not you are doing the right thing nags at you.  You wonder if perhaps you didn't try hard enough to improve the abusive situation.  You leave thinking you could have been wrong.  But what my friend did was brilliant.  It's professional, but empowering.

Not all abusive relationships are between boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, parent/child, friend/friend etc...  Some are employer/employee, supervisor/assistant.  But when it's outside the personal life, we think somehow it's different.  Somehow the relationship that we're financially bound to has a special status.  After all, it's business, not personal, right?

When I wrote Dearest, it was a poem about an abusive relationship.  What I didn't expect was the number of friends who would tell me that they related to it through their relationships with their jobs.

I'd poke fun, but it's a reality.  I'd express astonishment, but I can relate.  I'd be disappointed, but that'll get me nowhere.  I'd do something about it, but I don't know where to start.
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