About 6 months ago, I changed jobs. Left one company for another. There were a variety of reasons I left that aren’t relevant to this post, but I’ve remained friends with several of my former co-workers. I recently ran across my informal resignation mail I sent to my coworkers, including my boss. I thought I’d share it here, to show that parting can be amicable. A few minutes after I sent it that last day, I heard several laughs & chuckles across the cubicles. This was the last email I sent with my former employer’s domain:
Subject: Farewell, or – Riveting Tale, Chap
I just wanted to let everyone know that I’ve decided to leave <Redacted>to join the resistance against the secret Amish militia
I’ve had a great run here and will miss all of my friends, but I hope to stay in contact via my hand-crank OLPC that I’ve bartered for using sickly, unclean goats culled from my new goat farm.
I’m leaving to be a goat farmer.
Because the Amish love goats.
I hope to stay in contact with anyone who finds my thoughts intriguing, and would like to subscribe to my newsletter.
I plan to stay in the loop using the new beta Smoke Signal Protocol being implemented on the twitters. Because that’s OK to the Amish. You know what the Amish say, “Anything under 140 characters doesn’t count.”
As a backup for my hand-crank laptop, I plan to install Linux on a dead badger, as I feel it is the most appropriate and well-hidden solution^^^security theater to avoid detection by the aforementioned Amish.
For those left behind to man the SecOps vessel, my only bit of advice for all my friends is simply Love Thy Users
Above all else, *DO NOT* abandon all hope like this poor soul http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6FHJX9QLLA
And remember, it’s all really just fun and games http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jw2Qz_ec-w4
I’ve recorded a brief monologue to remember me by, attached. <insert audio clip of “LEEROY JENKINS!” at high volume>
In closing, I’d like to bequeath some last few things to the following:
To <redacted>, I leave my Deep Moisture Creamy Formula. To keep yourself smooth, player.
To <redacted>, my collection of Forensics manuals on my desk, because he says I’m already dead to him. And I don’t want to carry those heaving things home on the bus.
To <redacted>, I leave the password to @<redacted>. Carry the torch, Ninja!
To <redacted>, I leave a bit of advice: If he makes your sammitches well, tell him to keep those shoes off and stay in the kitchen. That’s how I roll, and it works out pretty well.
You can blame <redacted> for all of this. It’s because he didn’t send me any Orange Cupcakes.
And finally to <redacted:Boss>. I leave you with a new & different perspective on things to mull over after you return next week. I did *not* lick your monitor. Uh uh. No sir. That wasn’t me. Nope.
But I can’t verify the condition of your mouse.
Ah, memories… But I still love my new job