Yay! First post!

Anyways...
I quit my job today. Well, that's inaccurate. I positioned myself to take advantage of a rapid exit strategy. How you like those words? Learned 'em during my MBA studies. But yeah, never thought I'd actually use them outside of a blue book - that just goes to show you how valuable continuing education is. Besides, getting fired is too reactionary of a strategy, as an MBA I need to be anticipatory, proactive, controlling my own destiny. So I decided to position myself. See, you just learned all kinds of MBA horseshit without the tuition, reading, homework, and pontificating faculty.

I came in to work and the New Woman was there. The New Woman is a certifiable idiot, but I try not to say it out loud since she's new. That was, of course, until telling her so became part of my exit strategy:
"Do you have a Yellow Pages?" People ask me stupid shit all the time because I'm young, and am obviously (therefore) the receptionist/AA for our offices.
"Hm?"
"Do you have the phone book?"
"Ah, no." I turn back to my work. Pregnant pause.
"Do you know w-"
"Nope. It might be in the supply closet."
New Girl begins shuffling about for the phone book. Returns from the closet. "Well, it's not there. Can you look for it later today, or ask if anyone has it and let me know?"
"No." New Girl is aghast. "I've actually got a heap of crap to take care of since I was sick a while back, and things have piled up. Oh, and also (I swivel to face her) because I'm not the designated errand boy; and as a big girl you should be able to find the phone book fairly easy. It's big, yellow, and weighs about 8 pounds. Furthermore, the yellow pages is posted on our internal network, and is browsable from your PC." Swivel back, very David Spade.

New Girl turns, heads back to her office. I was kinda hoping to hear her cry, because that's what I feel like doing everytime one of these fucktards assumes that I'm some kind of secretary; but she shut her door. It still felt good though. I decided that part of my exit strategy should include some sort of cathartic release. It's working, I begin to feel sane. Happy.

The AA for one of the directors in our office block is a raging bitch. Of course, if I was that ugly, I too would hate the rest of the world. She comes huffing into the office late, like work is just too inconvenient for her. She just came back from nearly four weeks of leave. Four. In that time, I have grown a beard, read War and Peace, and converted her desk into my personal puzzle table. Hey, I can't fit a 550-peice Sistene Chapel on my desk, and I pretty much assumed she was dead or dying.

"Uhhhhgh," Huffs God's curse upon those of us blessed with vision, "I feel like crap. Hey! What's with this stuff on my desk?"
"Oh. I think some of that belongs to XXXX, but I know for a fact the puzzle is mine."
"What the hell?"
"Yeah, I thought you had gotten a new job or something. Are you here to clean out your desk? Cuz I'd really like to convert that area into a little break zone. You know, coffee, water, maybe some Chex m-"
"Move that crap right now. This is ludicrous."
"That's what I said during the middle of your third week of vacation. I'm pretty sure you're common-law fired. Yeah, I think I learned that in Business Law last semester."
The ogre turns to face me, her skin is red and I think she's beginning to sweat.
"Don't be pissed at just me. I wasn't working on the puzzle alone, I was just the guy who bought it. I mean, we were all kind of hoping you'd retired or something."
"You're an ass; and (my supervisor) is going to hear about this."
"Hear about this? Are you kidding me, she's put countless lunch breaks into that puzzle, I doubt she's going to throw it all away for the chance to work with your sparkling personality. There's a box in the closet that we saved for you, it should be able to fit all your stuff."

About half an hour later my supervisor comes in and asks me into her office. I've got a pretty good repoire with her, but she's absolutely pissed this morning. She looks like she wants to wring my neck.
"So what...what the hell? Shank, you know where this is going, so you don't have to feed me a line here. Why are you sabotaging yourself?"
"Those people piss me off, Claire. They've been treating me or the rest of the people here like garbage, so I figured it was time for a little pushback. Besides, I get paid crap here."
"But you're up for a huge promotion."
"I'm also up for fatherhood sometime in 2008 or 2009 and that'll probably happen first, considering how long I've been hearing that promotion line. Waiting for that little gift from heaven is actually costing me money in lost wages at another firm. Thanks for the references by the way. You sent them in last week, and they loved them. Your quick response provided me with the opportunity to formulate this awesomely fun exit strategy. C'mon, tell me you're not laughing inside."
"You know I'm not going to answer that. You've just burned some bridges here with the VP and her senior staff; because they're not going to appreciate your sense of humor."
"Yeah, well I don't appreciate her sense of my value to the company. There are idiots here getting paid more than I do to do less work, less difficult work, than I do; and you know who they are. On that note, I bid you goodbye. I liked working with you, so please don't take the clusterfuck that this division will become without me personally."

I get up and walk out her door, straight through our office area, and right out the front door. I didn't bring anything with me into the office this morning, because I wanted the effect of just leaving the place behind without so much as a cursory pause. I have exercised the demons.