Everybody has a limit; a time when you say to yourself, ‘Enough is enough! I can’t take this anymore! I’ve had it up to here! And without half-realizing it, you’re actually psyched up to walk up to your boss (whom is obviously an avid fan of The Apprentice). You’ve just had the verbal lashing of your life and then you and your boss stare at each other (squinted, of course) like you’re about to have a cowboy showdown. Both your tongues are armed and ready in their ‘holsters’ as each of you is about to unleash one deadly bullet; hers engraved with the words, ‘YOU’RE FIRED’ and yours engraved with the words ‘I QUIT’ but only one of you will get the satisfaction…
It was over a year ago when I was constantly caught in the middle of crossfire; endless tirades of abuse and ridicule all in a bid to reduce me to a bucket of nerves. I actually looked forward to going home to encounter my noisy neighbours. I knew that I couldn’t retaliate physically, nor could I retaliate verbally but I had to approach this duel strategically.
Like a spare bullet I needed a back-up plan…a safety net…some comfort that would allow me react to my boss without any dire repercussions. I knew some people in management but she knew some more prominent people in executive management – so that was a no-go. I also had a good rapport with Human Resources (HR) but my boss had them eating out of her palm whenever she wanted her stinker copied into your personal files. My situation seemed helpless, though there was one final option I hadn’t considered…
On D-day (Demolition day) I had previously been granted my 2-day study leave request by HR but my boss had told me I was still expected to come to work despite submitting a comprehensive handover note. I didn’t argue at first. So I’d lose one day – at least I had one more day available to study for my professional exam (EEEEH! Wrong!). At the close of business that day my boss told me I was expected to come to work on my second day of study leave, thus defeating the whole purpose of my leave request! I left her office and typed a short letter at my desk. I walked back into her office shortly after and then reached into my ‘holster’, firing a resignation letter straight between eyes. She never saw it coming!
She didn’t take it sitting down though – she was livid about how I could do such an ’immature’ thing and went on about how she refused to accept my letter – that’s just as dumb as saying ‘I refuse to take this bullet you just shot into me’. I didn’t stick around for all the barking (for fear of getting Rabies if I was suddenly within biting distance). I briskly returned to my desk and signed into the iQuit application (which was more commonly known as the Exit Management portal). It was an incredibly easy application to use. You just stated the reason why you wanted to quit and then you had to confirm that you were absolutely sure about the decision since you would have to reapply in order to…(I had already pressed the Yes button before reading the rest of that statement actually).
So where did this spare bullet come from or was this a suicide mission? Well, truth be told, I had actually gotten a written job offer a few days before D-day and the timing couldn’t have been any better. I flung my jacket over my shoulder with one hand in my pocket and bounced out of the office with my flat nose pointing to the sky. In this deadly battle I had the last shot…the last say…and the last laugh 
