Last week, I gave my boss my resignation letter. I haven't left a real job before (because I haven't had a real job before). I did resign from Big 5 Sporting Goods when I was twenty, but that was a big store with lots of employees, and I only worked there a few hours a week. They weren't going to notice that I left. This office, however, has only four employees and is about the size of half of my house. I worked there full time for one year, and part time for seven months. I often hold down the office by myself. I can match up most of our 203 properties with their 203 tenants, and some of their almost-203 owners. I have begun to develop a soft-sell sale style that has been pretty effective.
The night before I resigned, I found myself Googling how to write a resignation letter. I followed the sample I found on about.com, which suggested that one should thank the company and keep the letter brief. I was happy to be moving on to other things, until my boss brought in the new receptionist to work on my day off. The next time I came in, I discovered that this other person had been at my desk, taking my phone calls and leaving notes on our business projects in handwriting that was a strange cross between my boss's cursive and my coworker's caps. I've been replaced, and, suddenly, I felt territorial -- like baby bear coming home just in time to find Goldilocks.
Someone has been calling my tenants!
Someone has been advertising for my properties!
Someone has been working my hours, and she's eating them all up!
I'm sure that when the time comes, I'll be more than happy to sit in a bigger chair and sleep in a longer bed. But until my last day, I don't want anyone else picking at my bowl of oatmeal and craisins.
Melanie Griffith in "Working Girl," 1988.
Ellsworth, Mary. The Colorful Story Book. 1941. Web 24 June, 2012.