This week I heard these very words roll off the tongue of my boss as I sat in the living room sipping tea with him and his wife. Fired, this is the second job in my life from which I have been let go. The first was a summer job I had during college. The boss scheduled me for a Saturday morning shift even though I had repeatedly told her that was not a good time for me (Those of you who have known me for years may remember that every Saturday morning I was subdued under the effects of my medication). When I came in, unable to actually work, she let me go on the spot even though I had been the top sales person five weeks in a row. Thankfully selling suitcases and handbags at the mall was not my lifelong ambition.
This week’s firing was not as traumatic or as much of a reflection on my inability to work. I was actually the one who asked my boss to fire me; I even drew up the need paperwork for him. If you keep up with my blog you may know that I have been working for a Uyghur handicraft export company for the last year. But since we had no internet for 10 months, this internet based company really suffered. So much so that they are currently in the process of shutting down, my boss has not called me or needed help for several months.
In order to obtain my new visa working for Fusion (Whole Hearted Translation), I needed a letter of dismissal from my current employer. I typed it up, and email it to my boss so that he could print it off and give me the official stamp. I than went to his house to visit with his wife and hold one of their adorable twins. With a dramatic “you’re fired” my boss handed me the letter and I officially ended my employment with them. My father always told us to leave a good taste in the mouth of our employer so that they would be willing to hire us back, and while I may never get to sell luggage again, I think I will have many more afternoon tea times and encounters after my dismissal from this job.