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It's Not Me, It's You
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12/13/2006
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Last month, I sent the following letter to the company I was working for at the time, just to let everyone know that their prayers had been answered and I would be leaving-
Dear CompanyA,
We have spent a lot of time together, and much of it has been wonderful. Over the past six years we have had some great times and some less than great times. Remember that time you made me do icons (again) and I threw a lava lamp at you and broke your nose, then I started crying and told you I did it because I love you? Thanks for not pressing charges, ComapnyA. I owe you one.
Anyway, I've been doing some reflecting and I think we may be growing apart. When we got together I was only 28 and you weren't even 1. Our families had issues with the age difference, but we made it work. In the interim years our paths have begun to diverge. We are both headed for great things - just maybe in different areas.
What I'm getting at is that I think it is time we started seeing other people.
It's not you, it's me. You are a great company and I'm sure you'll make another graphic artist very happy someday (I was even thinking about setting you up with a couple of my friends if it's not too soon and weird). You're smart, talented, funny, and beautiful. I'm just one of those artsy-types; always looking to find his muse and discover meaning where none may exist. You deserve better. In any case, I really hope that once the air has cleared we can still be friends.
Seriously...
There aren't very many people here who have seen what I have seen in this company. I started here about six months after the whole thing began, and was honored even to be considered worthy of working among people whom I considered some of the smartest and most talented I had ever met. I can honestly say that some things have not changed. I do wish CompanyA all the best.
So now I have an opportunity to pursue something a bit different and hopefully devote more time to drawing and painting and possibly starving like a real artist. In a lot of ways I hate to go, but I know that the professional experience I have received and the friends I have made here will always be around.
Keep in touch. And I don't mean that like "hey, keep in touch, man" where I know that I have no intention of actually keeping in touch. I mean it the other way where we shoot emails back and forth to catch up and maybe get together for beers on Thursdays.
I'll be here until the Thanksgiving holidays. Until then, leave expensive gifts and/or cash in my cube. I'll miss this joint.
Sincerely,
Dusty Scott
Then I had a week off and I started a new job. Switching jobs after a relatively long time reminds me of when I first moved out of my parents' house. Things like band-aids, toilet paper, and shower curtains were not at my new house, and I realized that I had never stopped to ponder how these things came to always be there. After six years at CompanyA, I wouldn't say I was Big Man on Campus by any means, but if I needed to get something done, I certainly knew who to talk to.
At CompanyA2 (which is what I will call my new place of employment), I am the new guy and nothing more. Sure, they hired me because someone told them I was talented and they believed it, and that's flattering and everything...but I only know two people here and they aren't even in my department. I never knew how dumb I'd feel on the first day when I had to ask someone where the bathroom was. They pointed me to a closet and snickered as I went in. After peeing in the closet - thus getting the last laugh, I felt slightly more at home. At least we're off to a good start.
So now I have a couple of pens that people left on my desk, a whiteboard and some post-it notes I requested from the office manager, and I feel like I am well on my way to becoming a fixture around this place.
In other ways, the switch was a lot like dumping a girlfriend (hence the genesis of my departure letter). No matter how carefully you try to handle it, feelings are inevitably hurt. The old girl tells you what a slut the new girl is and how she can't believe you did this to her, the new girl has bigger boobs and, I mean, Jesus...you're only human...and someday the weirdness fades and you run in to each other at tradeshows and stuff and exchange awkward niceties.
I'm okay with that.
 Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 9:31 AM |
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7 Comments:
**C**
Leaving my last company was like filing a restraining order, changing the locks, installing security cameras on my house, screaming "just leave me the fuck ALONE, alright?!?", and then finaly having to kill the poisoned psycho bitch because she was coming at me with a straight razor.
So I envy you your graceful exit.
dunderfunk.
TLee007
Call me!
Love,
Dad
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