Page 8 of Objection
4
Posey
It was happening.It was going to happen. I was going to do it. I was going to stand up from my desk, walk into Mr. Farley’s office and hand him my resignation letter. And deal with whatever aftermath came at me.
Maybe I should send it in an email. Then I could avoid the confrontation. No, I wouldn’t. He would still bellow from his office and question me. Perhaps snail mail was making a comeback.
“What has you in a nervous fit over there, hun?” Sandra whispered, standing just inside my cubicle. I took a deep breath.
“Okay, I’ll tell you on two conditions,” I warned.
“Which are?”
“You can’t freak out or raise your voice, keep your reaction under control. And you can’t hate me.” My last sentence came out much sadder than I had intended. But this was the sad part. The part where I would have to say goodbye to my coworkers in the coming weeks.
“Oh,” Sandra got very serious very quickly, and then a smile appeared. “You did it, didn’t you? You found a better job.”
Her knowing look and her understanding tone made me want to cry even more. I nodded, unable to find the words.
“Are you happy?” she asked genuinely, squatting down in front of my turned seat and meeting my eyes.
“It’s a job I couldn’t pass up in a million years,” I whispered.
“Then get your ass into Jack’s office and hand him that resignation letter before you talk yourself out of your dream job!” She smiled at me, and I stood up and hugged her.
It was now or never.
I marched my way over to Mr. Farley’s office and knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
“Mr. Farley, I need to give you this,” I began.
“Set it in my basket please, and shut the door on your way out.” He didn’t even look up to acknowledge me. I rolled my eyes.
“Mr. Farley, I need to directly hand this to you and make sure you read it,” I tried again.
“Then you read it and tell me what I need to know. Isn’t that your job, Ms. Adams?” His tone would have been emotionless had it not been tinged with annoyance.
“Very well, Mr. Farley. This letter is to inform you of my impending resignation. I will be leaving the firm —”
“Who will be leaving the firm?!” Mr. Farley squawked.
“I will be leaving the firm, Mr. Farley, as I’ve been trying to tell you,” I explained with a sigh.
“When? Why?” He was not taking this well.
“If you would read my letter, you would see that this letter will mark the beginning of my two-week notice. My last day will be April 29th.” His eyes narrowed at me. That wasn’t good.
“You will stay on and find and train your replacement,” he spat.
“I will be leaving on the date mentioned. I will help find and train an employee so long as it coincides with my end date.” I held my ground, doing my best to not be intimidated by such a man.
“You’re a contracted employee! You can’t just —”
“Actually, Mr. Farley, you’ve had me on as an employee, an hourly paid employee, for the last five years. I am not breaking a contract by leaving the firm. Please accept my resignation.” I spoke as professionally as I could.
“I will not accept.” He crossed his arms. Literally crossed his arms. “You must find and train a replacement if you wish to leave.”
