Thursday, December 1, 2011
It's funny that the things we sometimes imagine taking great joy in end up bringing anxiety when they actually arrive. You may have fantasized about trashing an office and storming out hundreds of times but then when it's time to finally quit that job you get nervous. I don't know how many times I've cursed out my bank when looking at my account online and seeing all the outrageous fees they've levied on me. And yesterday I finally got to quit them. But instead of running out of the bank after the teller had hit the panic button, I just waited a few minutes and told the banker I was closing my account. They asked why, of course, after all, it's much easier for them to keep customers they can charge a lot than to try to convince new people to give them their money. I had nothing for him. I said I just wanted to leave, wasn't interested in staying, so long, nothing personal. But leaving felt great, this must be what people are talking about when they say, "The moral highroad." Or maybe it's "high ground." Either way, I rocked it.
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