I quit my day j-o-b last week. Holstee made me do it!!! :-) For the past 4 years, I've been dreaming of leaving my golden-handcuffed career to honor my lifelong aspiration to write. But that's all I did. Dream. Well . . . . I blogged for a hobby as well. But hobby blogging didn't quite satisfy my yearning. Last Monday I took action. I presented my manager with a bouquet of gorgeous sunflowers. I handed her an envelope with three sticky notes plastered across the front. Sticky Note #1: "Option A: Read the boring note inside." Which was a standard blah, blah, blah two weeks notice resignation letter, of course. I follow the rules. Selectively. Sticky Note #2: "Option B: Read the amusing (and appropriate -- I promise!) version at http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2013/08/26/its-time-for-me-to-fly/. As promised, it was very appropriate. I only mentioned The Reorg once. You only need to mention a Reorg once, right? Most of us are adept in-between-the-lines readers. Sticky Note #3: "You get to keep the flowers with either option. :-) " Now, I happen to be leaving a supremely awesome manager. Truly. She quickly ripped open the note, and then in a flustered moment blurted out, "Oh, wait a minute! I want the creative version!" She pounded away at her keyboard and arrived at my site to find a huge photo of the Holstee Manifesto with "If you don't like your job, quit" highlighted. She turned away from the computer to look at me. Naturally, her first question was, "Why are you leaving? What's on tap?" When I drafted the letter, I envisioned her reading the whole blog post in front of me. She wouldn't be able to tear her eyes away from the computer because my resignation letter was that brilliant! Each of us would break down crying at various points. We'd reminisce through tears and laughter. We's pass the Kleenex box back and forth. My resignation fantasy was thoroughly Nora Ephronesque. Funny how real life rarely imitates fantasy. I am not sure why I didn't think of this earlier, but neither one of us are digital natives. We actually look up from screens and make eye contact when communicating with others in the flesh. I told her that she could read the creative version of my resignation letter on my blog later in private. I shared my dreams of finally taking the biggest leap of faith of my lifetime. I am a Writer. Finally. At 43. It took me awhile, but you know, my blog is called Diary of a Late Bloomer. I'm not usually the first to arrive at the party. In fact, I'm never the first to arrive at the party. And I'm o.k. with that. My manager jumped out from behind her desk to come give me the biggest hug followed by the mother of all "If anyone can do this, you can" pep talks. Insert a few more hugs, happy tears, and much gabbing over the course of an hour. I got my Nora Ephron wish after all. It was the Best. Resignation. Ever. Thank you for playing an integral role in my resignation fantasy, Holstee!

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