Fantasy Resignation Letters: The Letter I Wish I Could Send My Boss

The following is a resignation letter from one employee to his boss and coworkers that was never actually sent. It’s the letter he wishes he could send. If you’ve got a fantasy resignation letter in you, let it out and submit it here. ALL ENTRIES WILL BE MADE COMPLETELY ANONYMOUS, AND ANY POTENTIALLY INCRIMINATING INFORMATION WILL BE REDACTED.


From Louisville, Kentucky

To Whom It May Concern,

It is with great, but not terrible regret, that I inform you that today will be my last day here at REDACTED. The last 18 months have been tumultuous and taxing on my personal and spiritual well-being. I believe it is time for me to step down from my position as Junior Assistant to Domestic Accounts.

In my time here at REDACTED, I gained great insight into the world of investments and what it is that you people like to call work. Never mind that most of my days are spent making phone calls to cold leads, or explaining to Mark how to use Microsoft Outlook, or that I was called “coffee bitch” for the first five months I worked here.

Also, let’s talk about my now former title for a second. I’m considered a Junior Assistant to Domestic Accounts. Is “domestic” really necessary? I’m pretty sure we’re not an international company, unless you count that account that Jeff has from the guy who moved to Canada.

You know what? I really didn’t learn shit while I was here. You people have completely given up on life and I hate all of you. You sapped all of my youth and vitality from me in just a year and a half’s time. What kind of sick, sad existence do you people come from?

Now I’m going to walk my $35k per year ass out of this door, and take all the K-cups from the break room with me. I also spent the night at the office last night and pissed everywhere in the refrigerator. When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. So if you’re wondering if your Weight Watchers frozen lunch now has frozen human urine on it, it does. It so does. My urine.

I’ve also been farting into my chair for the better part of the last month or so, and considering I’ve been coming into work hungover about 85% of the time since Christmas, it’s been mostly rancid, deathly beer farts. It’s a vinyl blend, so you know that’s going to linger like a dead rat in the wall. I’m certain that you’re probably going to have to destroy it by fire because no one’s gonna willingly sit in it. Actually, you are probably going to make the entry level sap that you replace me with sit in this very chair! You guys really do know how to stretch a dollar in this uncertain economy. Which brings me to the office amenities.

I really enjoyed the trip down memory lane you guys gave me when I discovered that my computer was operating on Windows 98. I hadn’t played the original Flight Simulator in forever. Landing at O’Hare is a real pain in the ass, especially when your desk is covered in bitch work.

So that’s it for me. I’m out. I started drinking at about, let’s call it 6pm yesterday, and I’m right on the cusp of being amazingly sloppy drunk and might just piss in the fridge again. When you gotta go, you gotta go. Right?

I bid you a not-so-fond farewell, you bastards. Maybe I’ll find a better job, maybe I won’t. One thing is for sure, I won’t miss it here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a number two in a random desk.

Kindest Regards,

***** *********

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