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          Proper Way To Quit Job
      It’s part of the 
            human condition—everyone daydreams about quitting his or her 
            job. Unless you’re working for yourself (or, in working for 
            yourself, happen to have multiple personality disorder), you’ve 
            probably thought about it, too. Hell, I work for my father, but even 
            I am subject to a good ol’ “in your face, DAD!” 
            daydream (Just kidding! Love you!).While no one may claim immunity to this 
            high-power fantasy, we can and should keep the ‘fantasy’ 
            part of it in perspective—especially with the paucity of jobs 
            available as of late. But if you must quit your job, there is a right 
            way to do it. And while many people have a healthy understanding of 
            how to leave a job, it seems there is a growing under-30 sect that 
            does not.
 Take Joey DeFrancesco, a 23-year-old 
            who quit his job at the Providence Hotel in August. He didn’t 
            just take a meeting with the manager—he sneaked in an entire 
            brass band to play a Serbian folk song as he turned in his resignation 
            letter. Don’t believe me? He filmed it, and you can watch it 
            here 
            (you’ll pardon his language).
 And everyone in the aviation business 
            should remember JetBlue flight attendant Steven Slater, who grabbed 
            a beer from the jet’s galley before exiting down an emergency 
            chute last summer.
 Of course, there’s something to 
            be said for a grand exit. Maybe the underdog in all of us silently 
            cheers on these people, but only with a mixture of revulsion—at 
            least, if you’re over 30. According to Anne Kreamer, author 
            of It’s Always Personal: Emotion in the New Workplace, 
            “People today have grown up in a 24/7 completely transparent, 
            socially connected life. They all are very comfortable with sharing 
            and revealing things that an older generation may have thought was 
            too private or provocative.”
 We can’t just blame it on age, 
            however. The problem of unemployment has also become the problem of 
            the overworked. The work is still there—there are just fewer 
            people doing it.
 “Many people are doing twice the 
            work with half the resources,” says Kreamer. “They feel 
            overwhelmed and undervalued.”
 According to a CareerBuilder survey 
            cited in USA Today, 4 out of 10 employees say their work 
            stress level has increased in the last six months, and 2 in 10 feel 
            burned out. USAToday also cited Workplace Options, an employee support 
            services provider, which said that more than half of workers say their 
            responsibilities have increased since the start of the 2007 recession, 
            with 70 percent going without a pay increase despite the added work.
 So it’s easy to understand why 
            people want to quit; what’s more difficult to stomach is how 
            they’re going about doing it.
 Joe Sale, former employee of LivingSocial, 
            a daily deal coupon company, sent back his business cards, marketing 
            materials and promotional items to LivingSocial headquarters in a 
            white trash bag with a note attached: “Treat your sales force 
            like trash and see how bad your company starts to ‘stink.’”
 Do you have that feeling of revulsion 
            in the pit of your stomach? I do. You may feel for the guy, but it’s 
            hard to reconcile how he, as an adult, handled the situation.
 There’s quitting, and there’s 
            smart quitting. If you have to quit, be the smart quitter.
 As a 30-year-old who happens to straddle 
            the line between adult and young adult, I understand the urge to vomit 
            your dissatisfaction on Facebook or Twitter so that everyone can know 
            how terrible your work experience was. I really do.
            
              |  |        Just a month and a half 
            ago, I was working part time in the oldest yarn store in New York 
            City, writing creative content, photographing knitwear, making videos 
            on how to knit (want to learn? You can watch me here, 
            writing patterns, researching up-and-coming trends in the fiber community 
            and helping people with their projects. Knitting is a recent, part 
            time hobby of mine—a love affair with creating things by hand, 
            and I admit that while working at this store, I took various abuses. 
            I consistently worked over time, gave up my creative content without 
            being paid, and worked under someone who, without a doubt, has a severe 
            personality disorder. I, along with one of my coworkers, left the 
            organization just a little over a month ago, and I was filled with 
            such rage, or more pointedly, such hurt, at being taken advantage 
            of for so long, I wanted to write an epic poem, four miles long, to 
            sing from the hilltops how awful this person was. Because beyond being 
            angry, I was terribly upset at losing my place in the knitting community, 
            a community I had lovingly cherished and served without compensation 
            and without a need for compensation—that’s how much I 
            enjoyed it. So I get it. Completely. We all want 
            an audience for our triumphs and our woes, and for those of us under 
            the age of 30, we’re used to being paid attention. We wake up 
            everyday and inform Twitter that we’ve just had the best cup 
            of coffee at Starbucks on 81st and Broadway, and we tell Facebook 
            about how tragically slow the subway is running, and everyone we know 
            chimes in, responds, gives us the thumbs-up approval we so longingly 
            want, and we feel better about our lives.
 Just recently, the Huffington Post 
            reported that Bill Lawrence, upon finding out that his show, “Cougar 
            Town,” was getting a reduction in episodes, took his case of 
            the bitch-and-moans to Twitter, stating, "Will vent later. 
            Must go edit episode that will be on in… sometime. Enjoy Celebrity 
            Wife Swap on ABC. Your kids should watch," launching a direct 
            attack on the network’s reality programming. It may not sound 
            like he went overboard, but it gets worse: "All fans - thanks. 
            Truly. My timeline is destroyed. Maybe I'll slide some episodes out 
            early and we can see what you all think... uh-oh."
 And the next tweet? "That last tweet will get me a nice call 
            from a Disney attorney." Huffington Post reports: 
            “after retweeting some harsh notes from fans, he hit out 
            at one of ABC's other shows that did make the schedule.”
 Now, does that sound like the actions 
            of an adult man, or a fitful teenager?
 The problem is, the proverbial finger 
            you want to give your boss via Facebook and Twitter? It lasts forever. 
            Outrage is no longer just a flash in the pan – you’re 
            leaving a permanent virtual paper trail for prospective employers 
            to follow like so many breadcrumbs back to your personal tragedy. 
            And you really don’t want them looking at that. You’re 
            also painting a picture of yourself as someone who can’t handle 
            rejection, unhappiness or anger in an adult manner, and again—that 
            picture lasts forever. You’ll get older and older and your Dorian 
            Gray-picture of immature ugliness will just get dourer and dourer 
            in the Internet attic. It’s not just about leaving yourself 
            references—it’s about making sure that the future job 
            you want isn’t tainted by your past immature actions. No employer 
            is going to want to hire someone who has the tendency to hire a brass 
            band to announce when they are quitting; that’s not good exposure 
            at all. Just look at Charlie Sheen—he’s certainly not 
            “winning” anymore.
 So if you need to quit, do what I did. 
            Write a nice, conservative letter citing why you can no longer work 
            under current conditions, thank your boss for the opportunity, and 
            move on with your life. Then, when you get home, you can write the 
            letter you really wanted to write, sign it in blood, and burn it in 
            a metal basket along with that handknit effigy of your boss. If you 
            need me to make one for you, just let me know . . .
 Flossie Arend
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