letter of resignation

Dear FedEx:

Please accept this letter of resignation effective 12/4/07. Due to a change in my day schedule (i.e. I have been hired for day time work, as in, work when the sun is up, which is what normal people do) I will no longer be able to work the sunrise, 3-8 AM, shift any longer.

That is not totally honest. I may have day time work with Northwest Airlines (yes, I will be a member of NWA, but no, I do not plan on dying of AIDS like Eazy-E... let us pause and pour a 40 on the curb for our fallen brothers) barring some discovery of a felony I do not remember committing. And since I don't know what my schedule would be for this job I haven't officially gotten yet, I really can't say for certain that I'm busy at 3:00 AM to 8:00 AM... I really just don't like working those hours.

And since we're being honest with each other, FedEx, I have to say that since I've seen my coworkers and myself violate the Purple Promise of which you are so proud, that is, the promise to a customer that a package will arrive on time without having been thrown, smushed, or stepped on as a foot stool in order to shove even more packages at the top of the pile, I have to admit I'm a little suspicious of whether I can trust you anymore. All those times you told me you loved me, did you really mean it? All those times you said you had to stay late at work, you were never able to explain why there was lipstick on your collar. I just can't live with this doubt. I wrote to Dan Savage and, predictably enough, wrote DTMFA!

Beyond all that, FedEx, you really didn't make me feel special. Maybe I'm being unrealistic with my sense of entitlement, but I assumed I would be hot shit come day one. And to realize, hey, I'm really not that good at this job and have to work harder to become better at it, well that's a little much for my fragile ego to take, don't you think? C'mon now, I'm from the freaking suburbs. I'm used to being coddled. The last three years, I worked in organizations where males were the minority (no, it wasn't phone sex). I've been used to being the Golden Boy, the only young male in overwhelmingly female dominated workplaces, untouched by criticism and reprimand although I was constantly fucking things up. Female coworkers would worry if I was eating right. Has anyone at the sunrise shift asked me if I'm eating right? You know the answer is no. And, even though you didn't ask, I've been eating very healthy, vegetarian chili and assorted fruits mostly, so you should be very proud of me and pat me on the back like my old coworkers used to do.

Maybe it didn't have to end this way FedEx. For instance, if the job was more like a choreographed musical and we loaded boxes in sync with the music of Leonard Bernstein, I wouldn't be so rash. But I'm not getting any younger or more handsome and, as I age, I'm certainly not becoming more enamored with lower back pain. So, I think it's best for both of us to make a clean split, but just as with any relationship, if it turns out that I can't meet someone new within a couple weeks, can I come back at 3:00 AM begging for you to take me back?

I will always love you,
Armin