Fifty percent of all adults said they would consider looking for a new job this year — the highest number in years — according to a recent survey by Glassdoor, a job-recruiting website.
Well, it’s hard for me to believe, particularly on Labor Day weekend, but I’ve worked at this job for three years, four months, two weeks, five days, six hours, 17 minutes and 44 seconds. And this is my final week here.
Yes, we’ve accomplished a ton together. We wowed some clients and brought in new business and won awards and widened our profit margins and upgraded our software systems at least twice a day just to keep everyone confused. And remember that company picnic in Montauk where we drank some brewskis and danced to Prince and an errant Frisbee almost broke my nose? Heady stuff.
It’s turned out to be quite a meteoric run.
I received raises and bonuses and, most memorably, I was promoted from junior assistant vice president to senior assistant vice president. In just a blink, I’ve risen from lower middle management to middle middle management. Why, just last month I was finally given my own chair. It took me a few days just to catch my breath after that.
I’ve learned so much from all of you here. And as soon as I remember what, I promise to let you know.
I know: Some of my colleagues will probably say that the instant I set foot in this office, I had already worn out my welcome. Others will easily accept my departure because you rarely gave me the time of day or even knew I existed.
Granted, we’ve had our creative differences — for example, all those times I was right and you were wrong. And little did I realize what it meant when my latest performance review showed I had exceeded expectations — I was doing much worse than anyone originally anticipated.
Still, it’s always a privilege to team up with colleagues who are smart and professional and dedicated. And you have no idea how much I wish I could say that about anyone here. This organization has felt like family to me, but only because no one ever really got along with anyone else. And if I called any of you my friends, the reason is that outside the office I have none.
So let me take this opportunity to come clean. I often caused paper jams in the printer without notifying anyone, much less identifying myself as the culprit. And more than once while flying on company business, I put Dramamine on my expense report. Oh, and I could’ve worked harder, too. Sometimes I shut the door to my office to nap for six or seven hours.
So I have my regrets, and owe all of you an apology. Truth be told, I’m leaving so I can finally steal my stapler.
I start my new job in two weeks. And sorry if this sounds like gloating, but right from the get-go they’re going to give me my own chair.
Bob Brody of Forest Hills is happily employed as a senior vice president at Weber Shandwick and author of the memoir “Playing Catch with Strangers: A Family Guy (Reluctantly) Comes of Age.”