Life as a Mom

What’s worse than writing a synopsis? #quittingyourjob #farewell #goodbyeletters

It’s true, folks! I have discovered a piece of writing that is worse to write than writing your synopsis. What is it, you ask? Oh, nothing more than just a simple farewell email I’m trying to compose to send to my co-workers. Seriously, why is this email so stinking hard? I am a writer for corn’s sake. Shouldn’t I be able to sashay my fingers across the keyboard in feverous fashion conveying sincere appreciation with witty banter?

I suppose not. Ugh.

December 7th is my last day of employment. On December 8th, I begin my new career of stay-at-home mom. I’m thrilled to say the least, but in embarking on this new endeavor I’ve had to face some challenges I’ve never faced before.

The first of which was giving my notice. Certainly, my boss, being the smart man that he is, knew exactly what I was going to say even before I did when I sat down in front of his desk. Of course, his clairvoyance made telling him easier, but still I felt a twinge of guilt.

Why, I don’t know other than I have tendency to feel guilt over everything, even things out of my control. It’s a characteristic I hold nothing but disdain for. The second, and hopefully last, challenge is this darn email. I’ve never really had co-works who I’ve needed or been allowed to say good-bye to before.

When I started here in March of 2010, I was coming from a rather dark place with regards to employment: a six month job search after an abrupt layoff by a particularly rude boss who loved to be called “Princess”.

Oh yes, she was one of those women.

But in the end, I found my solace in the workforce, here, with fourteen men….and not a single woman. For those fortunate enough to have never worked with women you wouldn’t understand, but for those who have walked the fiery, depths of that hell know. Working with women is the worst thing next to poking your own eyes out with a spoon, and a dull one at that.

Don’t get me wrong, I have female friends who are my best friends next to my husband. But that is what they are: friends. Not co-workers. And if they were co-workers, I doubt the friendships would last very long.

Over the last nearly three years I’ve seen (and done) a fair share of yelling, door slamming, and papers being thrown at one another. I’ve overheard conversations that have made me consider ripping my own ears off, and just for the record, men can gossip more than a cheerleader at prom even though they say they don’t. With that said, though, I’ve seen more laughs than any of the aforementioned.

The last few years have been hard at times, but for the most part enjoyable. I will miss not only my co-workers, but my work as well. Sure, I like to complain about my job and the people I have to deal with, but who doesn’t? No one is ever going to find a job where there isn’t one thing that boils their blood every now and then.

So here I sit, staring at the computer screen, loss for words, and bashing my head into another imaginary brick wall. Surely, a blanket, standard email would suffice, but I want something with more panache than that. I want something that is me and will get a few laughs. Perhaps it’s foolish of me, perhaps a simple “Peace out, Mo Fo’s” would be more perfect than any paragraph after paragraph email would ever hope to be. Knowing them, I wouldn’t doubt it. I guess I still have a few days to think about it, though.


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