Resigning

So, rather than resign myself to doing a shite job for shite money, I resigned from the job on Thursday. The path of resignation did not run smoothly.

Firstly, I emailed my boss, who was at our other office all week, saying that I was having difficulty surviving on the salary I was getting and asking if there was anything that could be done in the way of a pay rise, however tiny - and asking if we could have a private chat. Instead of talking to me, my boss forwarded my email to HR, who in turn called the agency. So by the time I rang to resign, having received no reply to my request for a chat, Reed were waiting for me, claws out. Miss Squeaky-Voice, BA (Hons), my rep, said "Actually, Rebecca, we're very disappointed in you". I said "Are we? Gosh!". She then launched into a rehearsed speech about me knowing what I was letting myself in for with regards to both the job and the salary (and she managed to get the whole speech out in one breath - the lungs on that woman!!). Fortunately, 3 years of writing less-than-perfect essays and having to defend them on a weekly basis at Cambridge, has done its work: I argued back, in an articulate and confident manner. Miss Squeaky-Voice, BA (Hons) and her pathetic excuse for a recruitment agency have been put firmly in their place. And I'm still considering emailing her telling her exactly how pathetic it is to put BA (Hons) on one's businesscard. Wankress!

I feel as though a huge cloud has been lifted. The English weather, ever aware of its role in the pathetic fallacy, is displaying suitably bright blue autumnal sky and the birds are singing. And, what's more, today we are going for the long-awaited Chinese All You Can Eat Buffet for Sam's birthday - a banquet awaits us, all for £13.99 - imagine!! Oh, the food we shall eat!

In other news, my husband is incredibly gorgeous and an utter sexpot, so life is indeed looking great right now!