Stunningly Clueless or Purposefully Mean?

 To the company where I recently, voluntarily, ended my employment:

Thank you just EVER so much for invoicing me 46 smackareenos for my mother’s funeral cards. Also too, thank you SO much for not extending any sort of bereavement leave pay for any of the time I had to be gone, you know for funeralizing and basic grieving.

Lucy, my mother died on the morning of October 31st (yes, on Halloween -- very eerie of her). I’d given 6 weeks notice at the job on October 12th. Why so much? October and November are busy times and I didn’t want to leave my co-workers in a lurch, scrambling to cover my job.

I wanted to give the company time to hire and train a replacement.

Sure, sure, I could’ve said ‘you know, I’m in a bad way, what with mia madre’s croak-age and all, so I won’t be fulfilling the rest of my notice.’ I had, after all, already given them the standard two weeks. But NOOOOOOOO! Donna has to do what Donna has to do -- the honorable bleedin’ thing. I took a week and a day off for wakes, funeral and light grieving and then returned to the pixel mines.

I was back there to work, work, work too. I’m fast, efficient, accurate, professional AND upbeat . All this despite being given, as the vast bulk of my responsibilities throughout my employ, ultra low level order processing tasks -- I had been hired to do, primarily, research and data analysis. I remained cheery and diligent despite being awarded THE worst, most buggy, app-less, out of date computer in the entire company. I maintained good-natured and industrious habits despite being scolded, in mega condescending fashion, for any and every infraction (real and imagined) no matter how small. And then, possibly the capper of them all, my desk was recently-ish placed in an area overrun by mice. The mice had fleas. I have fleas. OK, just a lot of bites.

Why did I stay with this company as long as I did (18 months total)? I kept hoping and expecting things would improve and I really HATE to give in/give up.

There were conversations with my manager about wanting/needing tasks more in line with my talents and abilities. We had tête-à-têtes about the inappropriate tone, manner and behaviors I encountered all too often. Boyhowdy I was doing the Firm, Direct yet Way Diplomatic Tarantella to beat the band. I was doing what a friend and long ago co-worker had once advised -- ‘managing up.’

The condescending, chide-a-thons ceased, I was given a few extra, less drone-like responsibilities but no, things didn’t turn around and become the gig I’d expected when I’d accepted their offer. Plus, the joint was still a chaos factory.

I’d had enough and began job hunting but not heavy duty, not 24/7.

And then, in mid October, there was a hefty straw and my camel’s back shattered. It was time to get gone.

My last day was yesterday. I got the bill for my mother’s funeral cards last night. Of course I wrote them a check immediately. You know "Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's...’

and shit.

Are they malignantly devoid of human empathy? Were they, prior to this post-parting indignity, purposefully trying to force me out?  Unwilling to risk a possible lawsuit for unjustly terminating a deafie so they were making things spectacularly, amazingly unpleasant in order to encourage me to quit?

Or are they just extraordinarily clueless?

Dunno. I just don’t know.