This Year I'm Mailing in My Performance Review, Literally

Dear Boss,

Every year we perform the same ritual of sitting down face-to-face and review my performance in the year gone by, pretending that you care about my personal development, me pretending that I give a shit about this company.  This year, I'm taking a different approach, which I have neatly outlined below to highlight the differences between this year and years passed.

–      My Goals – Some years you tell me that while I met my personal goals, the organization did not, so unfortunately there will be no bonus.  Other years, you tell me that while I was eligible for a bonus, only a select few high performers will see a bonus and for this year anyway I'm not one of them.  Let's cut to the chase here.  I suck as an employee.  You know it, I know, and HR knows it.  If not for the litigious society that we live in today, you would have fired me long ago.  Luckily for me, I'm black, Jewish, a woman, and handicapped.  That's right, the perfect storm of equal opportunity and affirmative action.  So how about instead of apologizing to me for not giving me a bonus, I'll agree not to sue you and I'll be on my way?

–      My Development – You usually spew some BS about learning other people's roles, or sitting with a senior manager to understand what their day is like.  Let me clue you in to something – I couldn't care less about my own job, much less someone else's, so save the manure for the pig farm.  Aside from that, I was diagnosed as being functionally retarded when I was 10, so forget about development and count your blessings that I'm potty trained.

–      Teamwork – Every year you drone on about mission statements and how we all need to help each other out, because there is no "I" in the word "team".  Well guess what? There may not be an "I, but there is certainly an "M" and an "E".  And along those lines, my team can kiss my cellulite-filled handicapped ass.  In case you haven't noticed, work around here is passed around faster than an STD at a frat house.  Between you and me, I don't give two shits about how the work gets done, as long as it doesn't involve me.

–      Other Crap – There is some other jargon that you use every year to justify screwing me, and to be quite frank I tend to zone you out during that portion of the review.  Instead, I wonder about things like if you take Viagra, if you know that your daughter is a slut, and what it would be like to get you in a head lock and give you nuggies.

In closing, I would like to reiterate that I do in fact hate my job, and my life for that matter, so going forward let's not put a silk hat on this pig of a job and pretend it's a beauty queen.  I hope the business tanks so that I can collect unemployment, and will continue to pray that you fall down a flight of stairs so that I can get some free cake at your get well party.

Warmest Regards,

          Milton Waddams