The writing process is a mystery to me. I'm currently in awe of the fact that I agonized over my letter of intent for graduate school. It seriously took me a solid week to wind up with a draft that didn't make me cringe, much less crawl under a rock and hope that no one ever look me in the eye ever again. But just now, I knocked out a letter of resignation for work in like two minutes flat. I've held a number of jobs, but have never actually had to write such a letter. Strangely, every job I've held ended on my employer's terms. But I've never actually been fired. Just phased out, I guess you'd say. The one job I ever quit was at my old university, where my bosses were such shady mother-fuckers that they would fire the entire student staff and then rehire them, in order to avoid having to pay the 50-cent or one-dollar yearly raise the university required every department to pay its student employees. All I had to do was tell those assholes I didn't want to be rehired. Piece of cake, but I hate them still anyway.

This time, I actually had to write the letter. And because my whole life is in fast-forward at the moment, and because I've never written one of these letters, and because I don't much care how good it is because it's a letter saying that I'm quitting my job, I guess I just don't care how good it actually is. Which works in my favor. Because it's total crap. I didn't even bother putting my employer's address on the letter. Mostly because I figure since I'm handing it in to them in person, it doesn't much matter. But also because, well, I don't care. I didn't find out until the last minute that they needed one of these puppies. So if they don't like it, well, I guess they can fire me.

I wrote it somewhat formally. With paragraphs and everything. And when I use the plural form there, I mean one paragraph followed by a "second" one, consisting of approximately two sentences, that says "Thanks so much for your time." [Now, let's talk about a severance package, even though this is voluntary. You know, sort of as a way of saying "Thanks, Phil, for putting up with all our shenanigans. We know how much shit we put you through, and are so glad that you actually liked your job enough to stay with us. You fucking rule." And then I'll be like "Pay for my education, bitches." And then they won't, and I'll leave anyway.]

I'm glad, at least, that I'm keeping in tradition with leaving jobs in very non-traditional ways. Two weeks notice is for wimps. I got it down to a week. And I'm damn proud.