We know that you like to bring “all of you” to work. Not leaving parts of our own self at the door is a major component in our work life happiness, too (we can be happy at work, eventually). And yes, we know there’s more to you than the suit in front of us – we recognize that better than anyone else you work with. It goes both ways, but we’ll leave that reminder for another time.
But really, what does bringing all of you to work actually mean? Do we get to see your bunny slippers, batman pyjamas or cat-of-nine tails when we pass your open office door?
We hope not.
There are some things that should remain outside the work door if we’re going to have a relatively successful relationship with you. You know it, we know it, and now we’re going to say it.
Your new, re-discovered or recently converted to religion
Whether or not we a) believe there’s something out there other than the universe, b) subscribe to a similar religious structure or c) think the whole thing’s just a whack of hooey, the workplace isn't the best spot to delve into this discussion. Countries have warred over these topics for centuries; we usually have an hour at lunch. It ain’t the place, honey.
A proclivity for unusual bedroom activities
When it’s time for the ‘get to know your co-workers’ storytelling, we’re pretty sure the makers of that game didn’t anticipate you disclosing your love of buttless leather chaps. Not that there’s anything wrong with buttless leather chaps; it’s just that we don’t think that visual has a place around our water cooler. Keep it in your bedroom – or motel room, or apartment elevator, or other non-work-place.
Your federal / regional / municipal vote
Bleeding heart socialist or cutthroat conservative; it doesn’t matter. Aside from religion, this hot-button topic is responsible for more dissention, death and discord than the lip-sync-on-live-television debate. Cast your vote. You get one. Be happy with that.
Breeding (otherwise known as the choice to procreate and raise offspring)
Just because a woman has a uterus and a man has a penis does not mean that they will a) want to do things to each other with these parts or b) if they do mess with each others’ parts, want to have seed land in womb. You want kids? Go nuts. Leave those alone who don’t want the ‘little blessings’. Please.
Negotiating the treacherous waters of the office environment is nerve-wracking enough as it is. Don’t make us get out our unmarked van and balaclava for an intervention, deprogramming or political action. Because we will. And you’ll lose.
If you discuss any of the above no-no items, there will be consequences. Imagine how you’ll look, waking up at the family planning clinic in your buttless chaps and clutching your copy of The Watchtower. We can arrange it.
~ Paige
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
the three-penny-tip
We’re resigning.
We saw the writing on the wall from the moment our “new hire package” was lost in the mail enroute to Regional. And we warned you that it wasn’t the right fit for us right from the get-go, but you didn’t listen.
We've reached our expiration date; hell, we’re way past it. While we look upon you and your office domain with disdain, we’re quite practical: we need to eat and we need a nice (enough) place to live. Everyone knows we’re in this for the paycheque until someone pays us for our fabulous tell-all office memoir.
After spending years perfecting our resignation letter, you get the glossy product that all other supervisors / managers / executive-types didn’t get. Some of our former resignation letters had nuggets of gold, but mainly they were just gilded crap. There’s a difference between gilded crap, generic crap and stick-it-to-you-so-hard-that-you-don’t-even-notice-we’re-sticking-it-to-you. This one's the latter, and it's golden.
We know you have difficulty with big words and that the subtlety of good writing is something that eludes you. We’ll make it easy: we’ll translate.
To Whom It May Concern, (notice how we don’t even use your name?)
Please consider this letter as our resignation from our position of administrative professional with your organization, as we have accepted a position with another branch.
You think of us as dispensable, interchangeable and lesser-than, so we’re going somewhere that might not happen. Oh, but it’s still in the same large organization – that means there are people out there who we’d rather work for, which you can’t possibly imagine.
We understand the acceptable window of notification is two weeks. Therefore, we are providing you with two week’s notice. Our last day of employment with your organization will be Wednesday March 31 2010.
If we gave a rat’s ass about you, we’d want to negotiate a transition date – considering it’s the same overarching employer. But we don’t give a rat’s ass about you. You’ll get what we give you and you’ll take it, just like we have for the past eon or so. You’re lucky we’re giving any notice at all.
We’d like to thank you for providing us with such interesting learning opportunities.
The shit we had to deal with here is unmentionable, so we won’t mention it. But we do need to acknowledge that our resiliency and mental agility was significantly increased by your lack of leadership. We had to survive, and we did. Thank you for being a f*ck up so we could learn how to deal with that.
Sincerely,
Paige Simcoe
Think of it like being in the hospitality industry – which we’re sure you never worked in because you have zero customer service skills. If you were a server, would a bigger insult be a) having someone leave you no tip or b) leaving you three pennies?
The no-tipper was dissatisfied enough to just leave without thinking about you. The three-penny-tipper thought about your horrible service so much that they chose to leave three measly pennies in spite.
We’re a three-penny-tipper on this one. Sadly, we don’t think you’ll clue in, because you never did.
~ Paige
We saw the writing on the wall from the moment our “new hire package” was lost in the mail enroute to Regional. And we warned you that it wasn’t the right fit for us right from the get-go, but you didn’t listen.
We've reached our expiration date; hell, we’re way past it. While we look upon you and your office domain with disdain, we’re quite practical: we need to eat and we need a nice (enough) place to live. Everyone knows we’re in this for the paycheque until someone pays us for our fabulous tell-all office memoir.
After spending years perfecting our resignation letter, you get the glossy product that all other supervisors / managers / executive-types didn’t get. Some of our former resignation letters had nuggets of gold, but mainly they were just gilded crap. There’s a difference between gilded crap, generic crap and stick-it-to-you-so-hard-that-you-don’t-even-notice-we’re-sticking-it-to-you. This one's the latter, and it's golden.
We know you have difficulty with big words and that the subtlety of good writing is something that eludes you. We’ll make it easy: we’ll translate.
To Whom It May Concern, (notice how we don’t even use your name?)
Please consider this letter as our resignation from our position of administrative professional with your organization, as we have accepted a position with another branch.
You think of us as dispensable, interchangeable and lesser-than, so we’re going somewhere that might not happen. Oh, but it’s still in the same large organization – that means there are people out there who we’d rather work for, which you can’t possibly imagine.
We understand the acceptable window of notification is two weeks. Therefore, we are providing you with two week’s notice. Our last day of employment with your organization will be Wednesday March 31 2010.
If we gave a rat’s ass about you, we’d want to negotiate a transition date – considering it’s the same overarching employer. But we don’t give a rat’s ass about you. You’ll get what we give you and you’ll take it, just like we have for the past eon or so. You’re lucky we’re giving any notice at all.
We’d like to thank you for providing us with such interesting learning opportunities.
The shit we had to deal with here is unmentionable, so we won’t mention it. But we do need to acknowledge that our resiliency and mental agility was significantly increased by your lack of leadership. We had to survive, and we did. Thank you for being a f*ck up so we could learn how to deal with that.
Sincerely,
Paige Simcoe
Think of it like being in the hospitality industry – which we’re sure you never worked in because you have zero customer service skills. If you were a server, would a bigger insult be a) having someone leave you no tip or b) leaving you three pennies?
The no-tipper was dissatisfied enough to just leave without thinking about you. The three-penny-tipper thought about your horrible service so much that they chose to leave three measly pennies in spite.
We’re a three-penny-tipper on this one. Sadly, we don’t think you’ll clue in, because you never did.
~ Paige
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