How do you say 'Eat S**t' in Corporate slang?

The repeated aggressive chiming of her alarm clock was the only thing that got any excitement out of her these days. While her eyes were still closed, she slammed the alarm to snooze for nine more blissful minutes before she had to get up. But rest was done for the day. Instead, she felt the looming daily anxiety that comes whenever she wakes up before work. Going to the same bullshit as yesterday, and the day before, the week before, the month before, and the year before. 

But it was a time of recession plus inflation, and there was a deep seeded fear of not having a job. Every day was different but also the same. Every day was filled with working at a company that consistently chose revenue and stock growth over those who worked there. And she was the one who had to constantly act like nothing was toxic, even though she had the role of seeing all the dirty laundry the company had. As well as the negative role of seeing what things the company chose as essential, what was performative but checked a box, and what was often ignored. 

Like most, covid was hard on her and the company. The skeleton crew they managed to work with as a company in her department, the dreaded Human Resources, was overworked, undervalued, and just plain tired. That was supposed to change by now, right? Apparently not, there was always another change management project or another leadership meeting where everyone had a thought or opinion, but no one listened or made real headway. At least from the level she sat on. The level she was constantly reminded of by her colleagues was a seat of privilege. She could see and listen, but her opinion was invalid, unnecessary, and wanted. It didn't help that every move she made was seen and scrutinized by her boss' nosy, infuriatingly bitchy assistant. She had developed an eye twitch whenever she saw a message from her. 

She hated waking up and feeling this sense of pity. She was a vivacious, fun, people-loving woman. And this job made her anxious, depressed, and at times suicidal. How can you not carry that feeling of being undervalued into other parts of your life? She thought.  

She knew it was why she also dated shitty dudes in the past so often. She didn't feel valued or good enough at work, so maybe she'd find it in a relationship. But what's the saying, she thought, you always go to the hell you know? Thinking of her most recent date, though, that was lovely. Smiling, she thought, He's a good one. It could be a sign.

So her dating life was always made up of narcissistic or emotionally avoidant men. Which perpetuated the cycle of feeling not enough. Which was bullshit, she knew. 

What happened? She thought, pulling the covers over her head. She used to be able to just shake this stuff off and find the joy and fun in anything. But now, she was so negatively reactive and emotionally frustrated. Pulling the covers down and looking towards her dresser, she looked at the sleeping pills her psychiatrist had given her to help her insomnia. 

Rolling her eyes, she looked up at the ceiling. She'd been in therapy long enough and even took some corporate leave to work on herself to know that she'd never actually kill herself. She logically knew it wouldn't add any positivity to the world, and she knew it would rob her future, and younger self of a life yet lived. A life that she was bound to make unique. But for some reason, she was stuck. She wasn't even on a path. She was stuck at a big, angry-looking tree in a smelly swamp trudging in circles. Repeatedly for the past three years.

Sitting up and putting her feet on the floor, then opening the curtains that looked out onto her cute street on the upper west side, she smiled. Today she was determined to change that. With a jolt of hyper-focused excitement, she told her boss she was sick and would be offline for the day. Before she could get a response, she was putting on her out-of-office and turning off all of her notifications.

Smiling, she was excited to plan this next chapter. Tossing on some of her comfiest leggings and an oversized sweater, she did her hair and makeup for the first time in weeks. There she is, she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. Seeing a little sparkle of the woman she knew was in there that loved every crunchy bit of life. She needed to wean her out again. Grabbing her laptop, journal, and planner, she tossed it all in a bag and went to her favorite coffee nook near her apartment.

Once she sat down with a frilly latte she never indulged in during the week because she believed it was just that, an indulgence. Life is fucking short, she mused to herself as she took the first sip. It should all be an indulgence. With that as her mantra for the day, she started journaling what she liked and disliked doing. What she was good at, and what she could make money doing. She'd always heard of the practice of Ikigai, the Japanese concept of discovering a person's purpose, but she'd never believed it was meant for someone like her. But why not? Why should she feed into believing that her work made her mediocre and deserved a mediocre life?

After a few hours of journaling, jazzing up her new resume, sending it to a few recruiters, and checking her finances. She pounded out the email she would send to her boss first thing in the morning, that she quits. 

Smiling, she gathered her things, left the coffee shop, and bought herself some flowers and champagne. It was a celebration, after all. A celebration of herself. Walking down the street, she stopped and looked inside the lingerie store she'd walked by hundreds of times but never walked in. Smiling, she went in, found what she was hoping for, and didn't look at the price. In the dressing room, she snapped a sassy selfie and sent it to her newest tinder swipe, who was turning out to actually be the sweetest and most wonderful guy she'd dated. Inviting him to an evening seduction. Which they had five times that night.

In the morning, cuddled up next to her exhausted beau, she got up before her alarm. She got dressed and was out the door with that excited fire still burning inside her. As she walked to the train, she promised herself that she would never forget to feed it like she had for the past three years. She had nothing to jump to job-wise but knew she would die if she didn't change something soon. Maybe not physically, but emotionally.

Before she hopped on her train, she sent the note to her boss stating this was her two weeks and would be happy to have a conversation if he'd like. Getting off the train seven stops later, her first was a new invite from her boss, 'Connect - this morning's email.' With a few nerves but mostly excitement, she accepted the invite.

Before she could even take off her coat, her boss called for her from his office. With a smile to his assistant, who no doubt saw the email in his inbox and sneered at her, she went in. 

"Gina, what the fuck?" He said before the door was even closed. "You take a day off, and what? Find a new job? Have you accepted it?"

"Nope, no job. I just started looking yesterday." She said, sitting in the seat opposite his desk. 

"That's so immature of you and ridiculously poorly thought out. What the fuck are you going to do? Just stay. Let's talk this out. What do you want? More money? A different title? Fully remote?" He said, grabbing at straws.

"Look, Steve, I'm not happy here. No one is. I'm just one of the people that is over it. My tolerance for repeated bullshit and toxicity has hit its max." She said with an unknown type of calm she'd never heard come out of her.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do, but I'm excited to find out." She said, putting up a hand before he could interject.

"And let's be honest, I'm not valued here, and you just like someone to do the shit your team doesn't like doing." Shaking his head in disagreement, she went on. "You can deny it, but I truly mean this from the bottom of my heart…." Sitting back and crossing her legs, sitting up a little straighter and looking into his eyes, "I fucking hate this place. I hate the people you hire who are cloned versions of you with different toupees." She could almost see steam coming out of his ears.

"So let me make it easier for you. I have over 200 hours of PTO. How about I help you by taking 80 hours as my two weeks, fucking off early, and you pay out the rest. Sound good?" She said, taking the laptop out of her purse, ripping her badge off her neck, grabbing her work phone, and putting them all on his desk. "And I know you can't argue with it because you'd cc'd me on all the people you did this for and to even though it is again regulation, and I have sent those to legal with my contact info, just in case there is any retaliation." Standing up and grabbing her things, she looked at the man that was so much smaller and meeker than she remembered, who was red-faced and looked like a child who missed his nap.

"Attached to my notice are links to my transition documents, my drive with all necessary files the team may need, and a wrap sheet of all things that will need to be picked up by your team or my replacement. Frankly, I don't care." Turning to go with a smile on her face.

"Gina, we need you here." Standing and walking over to her, feigning emotional softness, "I need you here." He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him sharply and removed it from her.

"Oh, I know you do. But I don't need you. Fuck you and this mediocre life. Good luck, Steve." She began her walk out of the office when his assistant, Chelsea, stopped her.

"We need you to finish all projects by the end of the week, even if you missed yesterday," Chelsea said with that permanent sneer.

"Chelsea," Gina said with the sweetest smile, "Eat shit and choke." And walked off with her entire team gawking at her from their desks.

Smiling in the elevator all the way down the street, she felt her cell buzzing. A number she didn't know, she answered.

"Hello?" Gina said.

"Hi, this is Deanna from Beacon Hill Staffing. We got your resume, and I think I have quite a few jobs that would be a great fit for you. Do you have a few minutes to discuss this?" The angelic voice on the other end said.

Looking up at the building, she mused, ask, and you shall receive, smiling and walking towards central park, she replied:

"I have all the time in the world." And she meant it.