How I quit my job...

Well, it's done. It's official. I handed in my resignation today, and it takes effect on April 30/06.

But to really appreciate the whole story, I need to go back a couple of weeks. A while ago, I said I would explain how I outted myself to one of my supervisors at work. Well.

In the mornings, I am "Receptionist Fancy" (aka. Downstairs Fancy), and I sit and handle receptiony-type things. In the afternoons, I am "Data Management Assistant Fancy" (aka Upstairs Fancy...yes, people at work do refer to me by these names) and I sit in Information Services and play with data.

So two weeks ago, the IS team was meeting for our pre-retreat planning session. We get together and talk about what we're going to talk about at the retreat. All goes well, then Debbie, my IS supervisor rounds out the meeting by asking if there was anything else to discuss, and I piped up that I had something about vacation time (because we need to go to Vancouver and find a place to live).

Now, understand that everyone at work has known that I'm on the move soon, it's a small-ish workplace and the rumor mill runs rampant as a result. Plus, my shared cubicle is beside Debbie's cubicle, and Holly and I talk daily about my leaving. Can you already see where this is going? Start imagining the following in mortifyingly slow motion, and you'll enjoy my assness even more...

I said, "well, I need to know when's the best time to take a week's vacation, because as you've probably already heard, I'm leaving in April because I'm moving to Vancouver..." and at this point, I'm watching Debbie's reaction, and here's where it spirals out of control...

Debbie: "Well, no, I hadn't heard that..."

At this point, it's pretty clear that Debbie's unaware of what everyone else knows, and at that moment, she looked like a wisp from a feather could've knocked her over. Cut to Fancy, turning 3 shades of purple...'oh my gawd, I've just accidentally outted myself to my boss!!'

At this point, I could've told her I had 3 asses and I was a runaway princess from Wallachia, and I somehow don't think she would've been any more surprised then at that moment. And my IS team is just as red as I was because they were trying not to laugh out loud. I count this as only the second time in my life I've embarassed myself at work, and this time, no hint of alcohol was present.

So, cut to today, when Debbie approached me and pulled me aside to say that the department needs to get it's budget in ASAP, and she needs my letter of resignation by the end of the day, I guess so they can work the numbers to see if they want to split my position off and just hire a fulltime Data Management Assistant. Now comes challenge #2. I have to tell Nola, who is my ultimate supervisor, because I want to see when is the best time for me to go (before or after National Conference?). This was super easy, as she'd heard the rumors, and she was sad to see me go, but she was very excited for me to be moving on to improve myself and my chances for a career.

I did my work, and then with about 15 minutes left to my day, I wrote my official resignation letter. It was professional, polite and full of praise for the organization. It came from the heart. It was a product of the one feeling I've been accused of having.

Then, under Lorri's guidance, I wrote another resignation letter for Nola, who's always a happy character on Fridays. It read as follows:

Dear Nola
(In 48 pt Bold)
In the immortal words of Johnny Ca$h...

Take this job and shove it, I ain't workin' here no more.

And it was signed:

Anonymous (on the advice of Lorri *****)

I gave a copy of the official letter to Debbie, and then I went downstairs to hand deliver both the versions of my resignation to Nola. She enjoyed my unofficial resignation immensely, liking the fact that I hand delivered my "anonymous" resignation :)

Who says quitting has to be stressful?

Lloyd Dobler

In June 2005, I wrote a post about Jake Ryan because there were a couple of articles talking about this apparent movie icon's place in the hearts of women everywhere. Well, this morning, it was carried forward...meet Lloyd Dobler!

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/02/13/AR2006021302411.html

Last time I didn't much lament the lack of a Jake Ryan in my life, and there will be no lamentations this time either, because as life would have it, I did, once upon a time, have a Lloyd Dobler.

Out of respect for the guy, I won't name him here, and really, it was so long ago, I enjoy the perks of being able to look back on it with a fond little smile on my face that no one quite understands. He was different, quirky even, and though he was more pessimistic than our hero Lloyd, but there was that recognizable spark in him, an endearing sensitivity and vulnerability wrapped up in hope. He definitely was set apart from all the other guys, and not that many people really understood why I dated him, but he was a wonderful opportunity I just couldn't pass up.

You know, as much as the girl in me wants those Hollywood moments, the sweeping gestures that make us swoon, the woman in me has put away those Hollywood moments in favour of the fun of reality. A grand gesture every once in a while is fine, it's even needed, but I love the everyday little things that I have with Rod. Last night for instance, Rod and I had a sock tossing fight, and I attacked him while playing Warcraft...it was good laughs, and it was 100% us...no Hollywood necessary.

So, I raise my glass to my Lloyd Dobler, wherever he is. Thanks for the memories!

Fancy's not here right now, so please leave a message...

If you've been wondering where I've been, with so much good material to write about (the Harper Government appointments, the Emerson X-ing, the Olympics, etc.) the truth is that I've been busy working and being ill. I ran out of allergy medication last week and I fear it left my immune system vulnerable...cue the Flu.

That's right, totally sick with the flu. Typing this requires a great effort because I'm having to correct tons of typos as I go. I'm sweating like I've be running a marathon in 25 degree weather, I'm hacking up disgusting bits of stuff from my chest congestion, and I'm barely managing to keep much food down.

When I'm better, remind me to tell you how I accidently outted my future plans to my boss on Thursday.