Stella's Making a Change

It's official: I am returning to the world of regular-ole-office workers. I know that you, my dear readers, may find this shocking, or perhaps distasteful, but it must be done. All the paperwork was finally completed to the satisfaction of the rulers of HR last week, and so all that remains is to serve out my four weeks notice, and fly to Baltimore one last time for a going away party.

I really tried to get out of having a going away fest. They're awkward, I don't want to cry in front of people (which I very well may do), and my frugality on behalf of my employer is offended by the notion that they would pay good money to fly me out there for a relatively pointless endeavor.

But another thought occurred to me: much like funerals, going away parties are really for those who are left behind.

My dear colleagues will be left not only with my stultifying workload and the responsibility to train my replacement. Don't they deserve some crab dip and a domestic beer or glass of volume-discounted wine on the house? I do wish that employers did more to reward the folks who stay put. You should get flowers or a "Thanks for sticking with us, big guy!" card, or some kind of recognition each time you pass your hire-date anniversary, if you ask me. After nine years of 1.5% raises and training replacement after replacement after replacement for other folks who have left my institution, it is sad but true that I must quit in order to get some scallops wrapped in bacon in my honor.

Although I may have to suggest healthier food...I am training for a half-marathon, after all. But it's not about me, it's about those I've abandoned in the throes of a corporate culture shift.

Let the crab dip flow like water!