[Hi readers, this is a guest post from my friend John. I am still swamped at work and he always has a lot to say. Enjoy!]
While Lizzy is off doing fun stuff like focus groups and product surveys in the middle of nowhere, I have decided to step in and provide an update for your Wednesday morning blues, seeing as how the lack of one yesterday set everyone’s Tuesday routine into a tizzy.
I considered attempting to take this blog back to its roots with this post; maybe sprinkle a little retro cheese over the nachos of normal, but several problems arose with that idea. The first being that the few posts on here (June 2008, that’s what the archive box is to the left) are all about being emo about relationships and dating, a condition I clearly cannot empathize with. That would probably require having a date of some sort first. The second reason that such an attempt to turn the calendar backward wouldn’t work is due to the presence of the Y chromosome within me. Like it or not, there are some things a girl will always be better at, like color coordination or saying something but actually meaning something completely different.
So, without a topic to preach about, I decided to turn to real life for ideas. And, as luck would have it, something did occur to me at work that hasn’t been mentioned yet in the slew of overworked/stressed out/cubicle drone posts that have permeated this bastion of Internet journalism. It is something I look forward to the minute I start a job somewhere, and actually prepare for throughout my tenure there. It is the one chance you have to unequivocally let your employer know how you feel. And it is one of the best feelings in the world, if done correctly.
I’m talking about the mystical exit interview.
See, the exit interview doesn’t get a lot of press. There are articles, essays, books, even seminars on how to land and successfully go through a job interview. Everyone’s been on a few. You dress up, show up early-but-not-too-early at the place of employment, shake some hands, smile, answer a couple generic questions, shake a few more hands, and wait patiently for the next week or two to hear the results. Easier said then done, but you get the picture.
The exit interview, on the other hand, happens just once at every job you have. While you may go on multiple job interviews when you’re unemployed, you’re likely not doing more than one exit interview every few years (unless you really love exit interviews and are really good at job interviews). Therefore, when the opportunity comes knocking, it’s best to be prepared. After all, this is the employer that didn’t care about your personal needs, dumped countless amounts of mundane work on you, promoted the less qualified, lazier coworker over you, and asked you to stay late and come in on Saturdays to finish up that project. You’ve vented to your friends about this. Time to put your employer in its place, right?
This particular ritual is kind of like a relationship break-up. It can be completely one-sided with one party totally oblivious about how the other is feeling. Or, it can be mutual – with good feelings or hard feelings. Fortunately, the latter was the case for my exit interview yesterday, as my manager and I agreed on what I had spent my six months doing and what I should focus on next to further my career. However, this hasn’t been the case at everywhere I’ve worked. There’s been some employers that thought they were great and I loved coming to work every day, until I shattered that pretty little mental picture for them as I had one foot out the door.
Either way, it’s best to practice the same habits during and after an exit interview as you would a breakup. You’ll once again want to dress up and look hot to let your employer know what they’ll be missing out on. Or, you know, to leave a lasting impression with HR so you can get a decent reference. Additionally, it’s time to start updating your Facebook status like crazy about how happy you are to be free of that hellhole, even going so far as to post pictures of your new, slightly-bigger-but-still-the-
same cubicle and new coworkers. These acts will make any of your old coworkers you managed to friend on Facebook instantly jealous. Last, you’ll want to delete all contact information related to your old employer. That includes office phone numbers of your old desk neighbors that you kept in your cellphone for emergencies. You can’t risk calling or texting them in a moment of weakness when your new office pals all head out to lunch when you were in the bathroom, leaving you with only an Excel spreadsheet to converse with over your ham and cheese sandwich.
Oh, and if all else fails, always be nice, but honest. That really annoying lady that sat at the cubicle next you that laughed like a hyena and discussed her eHarmony networking life on the office phone? Rat her out. The guy who always seemed to have work for you to do, but then was on a two hour lunch break when you had a question for him? Point it out to management and/or HR. It’s your chance to make your old workplace a better environment for the good people who still do work there.
If you’re still reading, I assume you didn’t find the above too boring, long-winded, or nonsensical to skip right ahead to the comments and start scanning for refreshing ways to insult the post. That’s good. In fact, if you even enjoyed (gasp) the above, there’s plenty more of it at my new satire blog, aimed directly at making fun of our parents who seem to be infatuated with social networks these days (plug – mymomisonfacebook.wordpress.com).