The Chronicles of Company Deserters EP01 — What usually overwhelms the camel is just a straw.
“In the coffee area on the ninth floor, there’s water left uncleaned beside the coffee machine, and there are recyclable paper boxes in the trash can in the men’s restroom. @Mr. A, @Mr. B, @Mr. H, please pay more attention!”
The moment I saw this message sent to the company chatting group, I felt as though I heard a “snap” in my mind.
I had been with my former company for eight years. When I first joined, like all rookies, I had grand visions of the company and ambitious hopes to contribute with my professional skills. Back then, with fewer than 20 employees, the atmosphere in the company was harmonious, from cross-departmental collaboration to internal relations within each department. The camaraderie among colleagues and departments was so strong that those two years were jokingly referred to as the company’s golden age by some of mycolleagues afterward.
Of course, with such rapid growth, new blood continually joined the company. Predictably, as the number of people increased, so did interpersonal issues. Key sales and core staff left one after another, and with the team’s expanding management scope, junior supervisors were promoted to senior roles. Unfortunately, under the management of this highly regarded but divisive figure, the company’s culture took a nosedive. The once cohesive unity gradually disintegrated, giving way to cliques and office politics, though on the surface, everything remained harmonious. Despite observing all this, I considered myself harmless, focusing solely on getting the job done without getting involved in office politics. Even though at times the work was daunting and the salary seemed stagnant, and I had long realized there wasn’t much room for advancement, I simply played it safe, clocking in and out on time, taking on freelance gigs after hours, saving up my income, and letting the days pass by.
BUT, it was this “BUT” that made me contemplate leaving.
An unexpected computer malfunction, coupled with the coincidental absence of my supervisor that day, led me to temporarily use her computer while waiting for mine to be repaired. Upon booting up the supervisor’s computer, I was greeted by the default messaging app window, which happened to be open to conversations with a colleague the supervisor often chatted with, someone who had also guided me in my early days at the company. Out of cursed curiosity, I scrolled up, only to come across a recent exchange between them: “The director asked why Mr. H still hasn’t been dealt with?”
Yes, Mr. H was me.
Unbeknownst to me, I had become the hot potato that my seniors and supervisors wanted to get rid of but somewhat couldn’t. It turned out that one of the bosses, who observed everything, had kept me around.
In November, 2020, I wrote an article, mentioning my plan to implement a resignation plan, in which I would be preparing for a year first, and then move toward a new career as a full-time freelancer. I even intended to document this year-long preparation process in biweekly notes. But due to the uncertainties of the future, I didn’t commit to it fully. In other words, if the preparations didn’t go smoothly, I could abandon the idea of resigning at any time.
In December, 2020, I wrote the first entry of the whole resignation plan, which roughly documented what I had done in the two weeks since implementing the plan, including sourcing projects, financial planning, and other preparations.
After that, due to the busy schedule balancing my job, freelance work, and family, as well as the effort put into finding new clients for my future career, I didn’t continue updating the biweekly notes. Around March of the following year, the seemingly insignificant straw at the beginning of this article finally broke my rationality. A month later, my resignation letter appeared on the supervisor’s desk. The supervisor understood that I didn’t need a meeting or persuasion; she didn’t even say a polite farewell. I knew I was complying with the wishes of my supervisor and the direcor, who were trying to get rid of me at the first place. In their eyes, I was like a loser who couldn’t climb up in the company and couldn’t endure anymore, finally escaping with my tail between my legs. But I didn’t care.
Because my path was already laid out before me.
On my last day, at noon, I had lunch with a few close colleagues who congratulated me on my liberation. In the afternoon, as usual, HR announced in the company chatting group that I would be leaving today and had completed the handover. Subsequently, two or three colleagues bid me farewell on Skype. When the clock struck the end of the workday, perhaps due to the anxiety about the impending future, I lingered in front of my still-running computer for a while longer, or perhaps due to the excitement about the upcoming future, I melodramatically bid farewell to my past self in my heart. I sat at my desk for another half hour before shutting down the computer.
Maybe to add a bit of ceremonial flair, or perhaps to let go of the grievances accumulated over the past three years and bring closure, I deliberately walked to the supervisor’s office, where I had previously only made superficial efforts and often clashed. I said to the supervisor, “Thank you for these years.” Then, I went to the offices of two supervisors of another department with whom I had always gotten along well and bid them farewell. Finally, I walked out of the company’s doors, bidding farewell to the company I had spent eight years with, walking towards a future that wasn’t so uncertain after all.
