Author: Mark Alexander

I called out sick today, for no reason other than I simply didn’t want to deal with the rank stupidity of my workplace.

There was only one other place in my employment history that I hated going to as much I do this one. It was in 1997 at an architectural firm in San Francisco that was owned—ironically—by a very cool guy I’d worked with about fifteen years prior in Phoenix. It turned out while he owned the place, he didn’t really run the office and the guy who did had no management skills whatsoever.

While I was working as an architectural drafter at the time, the owner knew of my mad PC skillz, going so far as to say it would be a tremendous asset at the office. But as it turned out, even with my skills, I wasn’t allowed to touch anything when stuff broke because a friend of the office manager “handled all that.” So every time something went down (which happened on a fairly regular basis), we had to wait—sometimes for days—for the friend to show up and fix it.

I’d discussed this with the owner on more than one occasion, willing to take on the responsibility myself, and he said that would be great, but nothing ever came of it. It made me wonder who was actually in charge of the place.

Anyhow, sometime shortly after the fifth or sixth time we were required to do mandatory weekend overtime because of this ongoing bullshit with the system going down, I’d decided I’d had enough. One morning I had a particularly frustrating commute via the good ol’ SF MUNI, and by the time I got off at the Montgomery Station, I knew was going to end up being about 20 minutes late. I said, “Fuck this!” and turned around and got on the next outbound train and returned home. I spent the rest of the day composing my resignation letter.

The following day was Friday (and pay day), so I returned to work, intending to deliver my resignation to the owner in person and explain why I was leaving, but fate didn’t afford me the opportunity; he wasn’t in the office and wasn’t due back until the following week. So, after receiving my check, I left the letter on his desk, quietly packed my things, and left for lunch—and never went back.

As much as I’d like to do the same thing where I’m at now, I simply can’t afford to. Those carefree days of youth are gone and I can’t just walk into a new job like I used to be able to. I have to at least act like a responsible adult and make sure I have something else lined up first.

To that end, I’ve been in contact with a recruiter who has submitted me for a full time, benefits-paid position at a non-healthcare-related company that’s in the same general area where I’m working now. This place also has the benefit of being a mixed Apple/Microsoft environment, something I’ve been really hoping to get into. Their hiring manager was out all last week, so I’m hoping to get a phone call this week saying they want to talk to me.