Friday, September 22, 2006

Goodbye, Farewell, Amen

What's Playing in my Head: "Goodbye, Goodbye" by Oingo Boingo

What's Also Playing in my Head:
"Theme from M*A*S*H" (Suicide Is Painless) by Johnny Mandel

Quote of the Day: "Hate your job? There's a support group for that. It's called everybody and they meet at a bar." - Drew Carey

No, I'm not dying. Yes, this is my last day at Current Workplace.

Leaving a job is always sort of weird. In a way, it's like graduating high school, because you're exchanging phone numbers, and saying goodbye-take care-see-you-soons with a lot of people you probably will never see again. Plus, you're cruising because all your work is pretty much done - there's nothing for you to be worried about there, because you won't be there on Monday (or whenever the next day is after you quit. YMMV). It's like going to an All-Night Grad Party, just without the drinking and the wild, unprotected sex behind the school dumpster out back.

Anyway.

I've left three jobs before this, and I'm proud to say that I've never been fired from one of them. I've always left on my own to do something better and on top of that, I've always left on a good note. Which means I've sadly never known the pleasure of calling my boss a random string of four-letter words, mixed with seven- and eight-letter words (use your imagination) on my way out the door. But such is life.

It's a strange feeling, sitting at a desk that's been emptied of all semblance of humanity, that once used to be yours. Waiting for someone else to take your place. The times I've left jobs before, I've always wanted to grab a Sharpie (TM) and draw "Brian Wuz Here" or some such stupid shit on the bottom of the desk, like I was in high school again. Mostly to scare the hell out of the poor dude sitting there later on when he's dropped a pen or something. But of course I didn't, because I'm a cheap conformist bastard.

I think the worst part of leaving a job has to be the long walk back to the supply closet to return all the office supplies you've collected over the years. Because it's at that moment you realize that you're walking away, and things will never be the same. Plus, you'll never have that sweet red stapler again.

No, wait, the worst part of leaving a job is actually the Long Walk of Shame (TM) through the office to say your final goodbyes to everyone. That sucks. For the most part, there's a lot of phonyness in the whole thing and it's like, if I have a good relationship with you, I'm not going to say goodbye 'cause I'll see you again soon. And if I don't...I don't really need to say anything, do I?

No, wait, the worst part of leaving a job is really getting walked to the door by security at the end of the day, stripped of your ID badge, parking pass, and anything else of value, just so the company can make sure you're not stealing their shit. It's humiliating, really. Sort of a "Goodbye, good luck, and fuck you" from your former employers.

Can you tell I've done this before?

At the end of the day, I'm glad that I'm leaving Current Workplace for a better job in a town I like a lot. But I'm also just as glad that I was there in the first place, mostly because I've gotten the chance to do things and see things I wouldn't have otherwise. Better or worse, I've made some good friends at CW, and that's the stuff that doesn't change. I'm going to try to remember that on my way out the door.

Now where's that red stapler...I brought it from home...

2 Comments:

At September 22, 2006 4:22 PM, Anonymous Mediocre Fred said...

No, the worst part of leaving a job is when they frog-march you out of the White House in handcuffs and whisk you away to a secret interrogation facility to quiz you on your knowledge of-

But perhaps I reveal too much.

 
At September 22, 2006 10:12 PM, Blogger B.C. said...

The black helicopters and jack-booted thugs will be arriving at your door shortly.

Thank you for choosing the United States of America!

 

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