499. Two Weeks Notice

So last night I told The Boss that I got another job. Predictably, she was not happy. “That’s so great! I am really, really happy for you!” she said quite cheerfully, without a trace of sarcasm in her voice. “When do you start?”

I told her that I start next week, but I do not want to leave the high-end kitchen store going into the busiest time of the year:  holiday.

“Boss, my new job is during the day shift, so it doesn’t impact me still working here for the time being. I plan to keep working my normal one night per week plus Sundays through Christmas. So I am giving you four months notice.”

“Oh, wow. You don’t have to do that. Two weeks is standard!”

“I know, but I don’t want to leave you high and dry …”

She smiled that kind of smile when you offer someone the last cookie, not to be polite but because the cookies are gingersnap and you are allergic.  

“MOV, honestly, it’s really hard to work two jobs. I totally get it if you need to quit now. You can go tonight if you need to!”

I truly had not expected this type of positive support, encouragement, and understanding from my current boss about leaving and going to work somewhere else. I was touched.

“Boss, thank you! But I am the type of person to honor my commitments. I will stay through December 24th.” I grinned back at her.

“You don’t have to!” She clutched a stack of blue and white oven mitts and aprons she had been arranging in a basket.

“I insist!” I insisted.

“Really!”

“Really!”

Her smile turned to a frown. “We don’t want anyone working here who doesn’t want to be here!”

“I want to be here!”

“Uh, okay …” she said, pausing to choose her next words very, very carefully. “Uh, great.”

I never meant to upset her by giving my four months notice. Maybe I should have made it six months instead?

MOV