Where I’ve Been and Why I’m Here
The following is literally the two weeks’ notice I sent to most of the people in the company when I decided I’d been unhappy for far too long and wanted to follow my dreams. It’s the real deal, the whole shebang, the proverbial enchilada en masse. It is unedited, save for sensitive details removed in the interest of privacy and professionalism
Dear [redacted] Family,
To be entirely, irrefutably honest, the last two months have been the worst months of my life in recent memory; in over a decade. After being $5000 of repairs into a vehicle I had leased for $10000 nine months ago, my transmission failed, and there was no way I could afford to fix it. Attempts to get it repaired fell through time and time again, car rentals fell through, rides begged from friends and family fell through: I was barely holding on. Daily panic attacks, inability to sleep or eat, and the whole time all I wanted to do was have a regular month and be at work with the coworkers I adore. And then, two days before Christmas, my checking account as frauded and I had my last $200 stolen from me.
By the stars above and by the depths below, this has been rough. Par exemplum. Anything over 80 psi has a possibility to blow a sprinkler line. In contrast, it requires 725,000 psi to transform coal into a diamond. I believe, ultimately, that I am not meant to go with the flow. I do believe that I am meant to shine.
To be honest, lately I have felt disregarded, disrespected. When panicking Tuesday about the potentiality of giving my Grandmother Covid, I inquired to Steve about the fundamentals of the PTO system, just out of curiosity. He replied that he didn’t know how long I’d worked here, but I could check with Stephanie at 7:30. I have worked for [redacted] Construction, Inc. for 3 years. Almost to the day, actually, now that the calendar waved at me. Four or five months ago, when I began working for [redacted], [redacted] and I had a sit down and [redacted] told me that he was going to increase my pay. That never happened. Do you know how much that little bit extra would have helped when I had no money at Christmas and my life was falling apart? Finally, over the last few days, my attempts to communicate with [redacted] have been roundly ignored.
I thought that I was part of the [redacted] family. At least I had hoped so, for a long time. I have been, unfortunately, proven wrong. I told myself when I left Hawaii that I would never again remain at a company where I felt mistreated, undervalued, or unappreciated. The Chinese believe that history operates in a cyclical pattern; there is a lot of historical evidence to support that theory.
However. I wish it to be known that this is not the reason for my departure, and I hold absolutely no animosity or hostility regarding the aforementioned details. Honestly, I only vocalized those experiences because I am a soft-hearted individual, and my feelings were hurt in a way they have not been in years.
Ultimately, though, the reality is this: my body cannot keep up with the work load. The carpal tunnel that I acquired doing construction while in college persists in rearing its inflammatory, decisively ugly head time and time again, day after day, with every breath I draw. It has gotten to the point that I usually cannot do the things I love, such as write, and half the time I can hardly do the things that I like, such as being part of this wonderful company and helping people out of the worst times of their lives. God, it feels so good to help people, and that aspect of being part of [redacted] has been.. infinitely rewarding. A plethora of fond memories will accompany me in my future years. But. But. When I am laying in bed with tears in my eyes because my arm and wrist hurt so bad.. perhaps it is time to look out for my own health.
And then there is The Big Reason. I need to follow my dream.
I have always, from my earliest comprehensions of the notion of desire, wanted to be a writer. I remember being four years old, cranking out a story on a computer bigger than I was about fairies in our front yard. I have always been a writer, and always wanted to write, and that is the me that I want to personify, embody, and manifest. That is the best possible version of myself. And, after everything, after a ten-year hiatus and purgatory of passionless life, it is long past time that I committed to, well. Following my dream.
More than anything, I want to thank absolutely everybody. [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted], [redacted].. there are no adequate depths of emotion to represent the gratitude and love I have for you all. [redacted] is the best company I have ever worked for, and this is legitimately more fun swinging hammers than I ever thought possible. The ability to help others through travesty, the chance to learn how to do absolutely everything under (and on top of) the roof, the opportunity to get electrocuted multiple times by a malevolent dishwasher, the ability to work with and for such wonderfully, magnificently kind, sweet, genuinely caring people. The best. You guys are the best.
The Cambridge Dictionary defines “superlative” as “of the highest kind, quality, or order; surpassing all else or others”. This suits [redacted] remarkably well. Once again, I thank you.
This has easily been the greatest working experience of my life, and I will go forward with warmth in my heart and enough happy memories to power a small city.
All things must come to an end, good, bad, and everything between, and so much this letter (thank goodness, you’re thinking). I believe I’ve said the things that I needed to say, but I know I haven’t been able to show my appreciation enough. There will never be words for such gravity of gratitude, but I do want you to know that [redacted] will always hold a very special place in my heart.
But, as cliché as it may sound, I do think I need to find my own direction.
And now, the exhale.
This is my formal two weeks’ notice.
It has been a delight, a blast, a pleasure, and I am inordinately proud to have been a part of this company.
All of my respect and love,
Marcus Milich
