This is the second time I?ve changed jobs since I started working in 1999 and one of the many details of the change is the ?letter of resignation.? I think my original concept of the letter of resignation comes from Whitehouse TV dramas, where a disgraced subordinate of the President walks into the Oval Office, head bowed in defeat, and says ?You?ll have my letter of resignation on your desk tomorrow.? These letters seem to follow some epic disaster; perhaps the Vice President accidentally declared war on China while the President was on the golf course, or the Secretary of State spilled salsa on the Mexican First Lady?s dress. On the rare TV show or movie where they actually show such a letter, it usually looks to be a good three to five paragraphs, with lots of official seals and other stately details, apologizing for whatever transgressions the official committed, and heroically admitting the disgrace brought on by those actions, sentencing the official to a life of $100,000 college graduation speeches and lackluster autobiographies.
When I first switched jobs, resigning from IBM in early 2003 I was asked to write such a letter. My ?transgressions? consisted primarily of not being particularly fond of the way Big Blue was treating her newly acquired consulting practice, and I could not think of anything particularly valiant or conciliatory to say. Instead of 100% cotton bond paper with an embossed seal of some sort, I fired out an email. I did not save the email, but it went something like this:
Dear HR Person I?ve Never Met:
I hope you had a pleasant weekend. I am resigning from IBM effective at the end of next week.
Best Regards,
Pat
PS: Go Red Sox!
Thus far, Pitney Bowes has not mentioned a requirement to submit a ?Letter of Resignation.? Again my transgressions against my country and humanity at large are pretty unimpressive. I wish I could admit to some grave violation of the standards of goodness and decency, like attempting to reincarnate Joe Pitney and Franky Bowes using stolen brains from the local asylum. Unfortunately all I can come up with is that I am leaving to get some more leadership opportunities, and experience with some of SAP?s new products. Maybe on my last day I can make some dire predictions about the death of postal mail, or perhaps stop by my local asylum on the way to work and see what their brain inventory looks like. I wonder if the Employee Handbook tells you where Mr. Pitney and Mr. Bowes ended up?