Thank you for dropping by the office today. Thank you for confirming why I’m glad to be leaving.
My head has been swirling for the past couple of weeks. Swirling because I love my job. I love the people, the properties, the brand. But I don’t appreciate being treated like a pawn, something to be moved around at will.
And I was meant to be the ‘lucky’ one. The one picked to stay, against people who have committed themselves to your company for years, compared with my months. And yet you let them go without consoltation. Are you crazy?
Maybe they weren’t flexible enough. Maybe you should have asked them. Maybe they told you the truth more than you’d like. Maybe you should have kept your own ego in check.
And the thing is, if you see your colleagues being unceremoniously dumped your trust wanes. How was I to know that I wouldn’t be next? I don’t like being vulnerable.
It didn’t help that you wouldn’t lay your cards on the table with regards to my job. One second you wanted me to work full-time. The next you just wanted me on a Saturday. Then it was ‘part-time that could be extended to full-time’ (with the implication that if i couldn’t meet your requirements then I’d be going the same way as the others, no matter how good I was at my job). ‘You’re a mushroom,’ my friend said, ‘You’re being kept in the dark.’ It turns out that I’m a bit scared of the dark.
Or maybe, actually, I’m more of an egg, as I’ve been poached. Someone has seen how hard I work, how good I am at my job. And they’ve offered me a job that suits me. It won’t have the same prestige – it’ll be residential lettings, more basic properties, no more swanky pads with boot rooms and annexes, limestone flooring and swimming pools. But I’ll get to work in a supportive team with hours that fit around the school run and a boss who won’t mess me around or be offended if I offer an opinion.
It’s a no-brainer really. But I didn’t want to let you down. More to the point I didn’t want to let the new staff down, leaving them short-staffed whilst they found their feet. Not that that bothered you. You went on holiday, refusing to answer emails whilst still sending out dictates that messed everyone around.
And still I dithered. I felt I’d got the hang of things and now I’m back to square one. I’m sad that I won’t get to learn more from your company.
Even though I watched the new staff get new computers and my own computer disappear along with my email signature, I dithered. Even though the newbies were given information that had never been passed to me, I dithered.
I dithered…until today. You came into the office and barely acknowledged me. Everyone else went for coffee, but not me. Had you talked to me, reassured me in your plans, maybe I would have stayed. I’m not bailing because the transition is difficult. I’m leaving because you’ve treated me as if I’m lower than the low.
I felt like a spare part today and I’m looking forward to tomorrow when I change desk within the building, to be with people who want me and who are ready to value me.
You didn’t value me, and so I’m off.
In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman: ‘Big mistake. Big. Huge.’
Ultimately, it seems appropriate that on the day Scotland decided whether to stay or go, I came to my own resolute decision. And although there’s lots that I’ll miss – the people, the properties, the brand – I’m not sorry.
No longer yours,