The Farewell Email
(First, let me warn you that this one of those things that been sitting in my files since sometime in 2008. Somebody could find this a bit mean-spirited, so you may want to stop reading this now, And I have no idea why I find this the least bit funny, but I do…. – Ninure da Hippie)
One might hope that the Monday morning following a long weekend of travel might be a chance to ease back slowly into the dull gray world of Day Job mediocrity.
But when that morning is rife with backed-up emails written in office-y doublespeak, Post It note “reminders” placed on one’s monitor for maximum passive aggression, and nary a word of “Welcome back” or “How was your trip?”, one might be tempted to send an email such as the one below.
Feel free to copy, paste, and “Save as Draft” for a rainy day – OF RECKONING.
As many of you probably know, today is my last day. But before I leave, I wanted to take this opportunity to let you know what a great and distinct pleasure it has been to type “Today is my last day.”
For nearly as long as I’ve worked here, I’ve hoped that I might one day leave this company. And now that this dream has become a reality, please know that I could not have reached this goal without your unending lack of support. Words cannot express my gratitude for the words of gratitude you did not express.
I would especially like to thank all of my managers: in an age where miscommunication is all too common, you consistently impressed and inspired me with the sheer magnitude of your misinformation. It takes a strong man to admit his mistake – it takes a stronger man to attribute his mistake to me.
Over the past three years, you have taught me more than I could ever ask for and, in most cases, ever did ask for. I have been fortunate enough to work with some absolutely interchangeable supervisors on a wide variety of seemingly identical projects – an invaluable lesson in overcoming daily tedium in overcoming daily tedium in overcoming daily tedium.
Your demands were high and your patience short, but I take great solace knowing that my work was, as stated on my annual review, “mostly satisfactory.” That is the type of praise that sends a man home happy after even a 10 hour day, smiling his way through half a bottle of mostly satisfactory scotch.
And to most of my peers: even though we barely acknowledged each other within these office walls, I hope that in the future, should we pass on the street, you will regard me the same way as I regard you: sans eye contact.
But to those few souls with whom I’ve actually interacted, here are my personalized notes of farewell:
To Rudy: I will always remember sharing lunch with you, despite having clearly labeled it with my name.
To Steven: I will miss detecting your flatulence as much as you will clearly miss walking past my cubicle to deliver it.
To Eileen: Best wishes on your ongoing campaign to popularize these “email forwards.” I sincerely hope you receive that weekend full of good luck, that hug from an old friend, and that baby for your dusty womb.
To Felix: I left a new wristwatch on your desk. It is so that you might be able to still tell time even without your hourly phone call to let me know the copier is jammed. (Call Steven – he’ll come by.)
And finally, to Kat: you were right – I tested positive. We’ll talk later.
So, in parting, if I could pass on any word of advice to the individual who will soon be filling my position, it would be to cherish this experience like a sponge and soak it up like a good woman, because a job opportunity like this comes along only once in a lifetime.
Meaning: if I had to work here again in this lifetime, I would sooner kill myself.
Very truly yours,
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