|I did it!|
Since my last article about my utter failure at a new job was a smash hit (I really quit!), I guess I should continue with that for that ratings. Thankfully for my blog, my journey with the new/old job didn't end after I quit.
As I expected when I wrote my e-mail of resignation, my contact asked if I could return my key card that day. As awkward as that would be, I still felt good about my decision and drove to the office that afternoon. I hoped my key card would still work so I could just walk straight to her office, hand her the key, and run away forever. It didn't. This prolonged the agony, forcing me to call her direct line from the empty lobby so she could come to me instead.
She came out to the stark lobby with a faintly apologetic look. I handed her the key card with a stiff arm, and babbled on about how sorry I was it didn't work out, how I valued their time, and how I was claustrophobic. She was understanding in a motherly way, and also let me know they would still pay me for my brief time there. I'd be welcome to awkwardly visit again at the end of the month to pick up my check. Pleasantly surprised, I sauntered off to happy hour, thinking of my 16 hours of earnings.
I waited a few extra days after the end of the month so I wouldn't look too desperate for a paycheck that was barely 3 digits. I made another hour-long trek for another awkward office visit, hoping to avoid anyone I'd met, and just flap in and out of there. As I pulled into the parking lot, heart fluttering a bit, I saw a large man smoking in the parking lot: my would-be boss. I avoided eye contact and sped past him, parking many spaces away from the office door. I flew inside to speak to a clueless receptionist, who didn't know anything about me or my check. She wrote down my name and phone number and would look into it. I took it over bumping into anyone else.
I checked the mail daily, eager for my little quitting bonus and for this brief chapter to be closed. After a few days of no check, I waited a few more days to avoid e-mailing would-be boss. And after a check-less few few more days, I decided it was time to e-mail him. Two people had promised me money for my suffering, so I wanted it. He wrote me back to confirm the address I'd already sent him and that they had in my paperwork, and I went back to waiting.
Two check-less weeks later, I was ready to send another nagging e-mail. Before I did, I checked the mail one more time and there it was in all its glory. My quitting bonus had arrived and this brief, painfully prolonged, chapter of my working life was closed 5 weeks later.
KEEP READING! "My New Job, My Old Job."
"HEN FOR PRESDIENT!"