Resignation

Handing in my notice.

We’ve been dreaming of a trip like this ever since we first met but it is only this year that circumstances have conspired to make it possible. From January to July 2007 we plan to circumnavigate the globe in order to see and experience many of the places we have always wanted to visit.

It’s all well and good planning these things but quite another putting them into practice. This is especially true for a confirmed pessimist like myself. Where others will complain that the glass is half empty I will add that the liquid therein probably tastes of dishwater anyway. So despite all our preparations I was never 100% convinced that we would actually go through with it. I felt that maybe some last minute hitch or sudden surprise might render our plans obsolete; perhaps, in the darkest corners of my mind, I secretly wanted this to happen. I was, you understand, born in the Chinese year of the tiger although I am most definitely an animal of the paper variety. However, last week I finally bared my claws and reached the point of no return, the final piece of the jigsaw; I handed in my resignation.

In fact it came as no surprise at all to those who mattered but even so it was still a significant step to take. You would think that such an act would be like second nature to me. After all I have quite a record of resigning from various employment in various ways. At Murphy I think I simply stopped coming in and left it to my dad to sort out. At Abbey National I announced with undisguised glee that I was leaving the mortgage administration business and at Amy Johnson School my resignation came with both frustration and relief. However, in terms of time and commitment these jobs pale beside the six and a half years I have spent at my present position; which made the final act of resignation a little odd.

I typed and printed the letter, signed it in black biro and folded it into thirds with the address facing up (a skill I had been taught at Abbey). I hand wrote the headmaster’s name on the envelope and carried it to his post tray in the staffroom. On my way I had to pass briefly outside between two buildings and as the rain poured down (as it has a tendency to do in these parts) I secreted the envelope inside my jacket in case it got wet. Once inside in the dry I found it difficult to remove the envelope again. I suddenly became all paranoid; to take it out would be a sure fire admission that I was deserting the place, but to leave it hidden would suggest that I was uncertain in my actions and that I didn’t want anyone to know. Not for the first time in recent weeks I gave myself a metaphorical slap around the chops. I really do think too much sometimes and after all this little envelope held the key to our adventurous future.

I placed the envelope carefully in my employer’s tray and was slightly disappointed that there was no fanfare or dramatic incidental music as I did so. In fact as usual, the staffroom was a hive of activity and my great act of departure went completely unnoticed. I vanished back into the throng of hungry adolescents charging towards the canteen. On the surface nothing at all had changed but of course I knew everything had, and from this point on there was no stopping us. Our great adventure is just beginning and the world truly is our lobster.