Simone in Sydney: RSVP Resignation

I may be one of the most self-absorbed people you know, but it was NOT my idea to invite people to my resignation. That came from Mary.

Mary: Oh good, I'll be able to hear what happens through the wall.

Me: I know I'm usually really really loud, but I'm quiet when I negotiate.

Mary [cheerfully]: Won't matter. We can hear everything through the air vent.

Hmmm.

I'd heard the stories of other fights. Katerina – away now on sabbatical – is famous. Mass exodus to the offices on the floor below because people couldn't handle the screaming.

Even the languid, elegant Jane stormed out on one occasion apparently, anger with the Garden Gnome rendering her speechless.


The Gnome is my boss. Tiny, inarticulate, incompetent and nursing a hatred of capital letters and all things Simone, he showers emails upon me daily on matters of great magnitude.

Seven on the importance of not calling the test we had to give students in Week 1 a 'test.' It was a 'language task.' God forbid I would “psychologically freak-out students” by calling it anything else.

Anna: Please don't resign when I'm in class. Can't you do it on Friday?

Mary: Oh, she'll let us know. You can come and listen in my office.

But the Gnome can rise above the minutiae of everyday tests. Sorry. That would be 'tasks.' Any expression of competence, confidence, satisfaction or effort is immediately rewarded. With abuse.

Gnome [Day 6 of my employment]: Simone, you were our third choice of the three we employed so you will be the first one out when the money runs out.

When not emailing, the Gnome is prone to calling people into his office.

This is the best fun. Where and when else would one have the opportunity to see real live people transformed into a character from The Magic Faraway Tree, steam spurting out their ears?

Where and when else could one truly appreciate the meaning of the word, apoplectic?


When the moment finally arrives, however, I confess to feeling a tad nervous. The invitations are out and the word has gone around. A small group gathered outside the Gnome's office informs me that the Gnome has gone out. To a meeting. With the Business Department. To return in an hour before leaving for another meeting. With...

Stephanie [Between regret and glee]: Couldn't ask him anything else. He was already wondering about the Inquisition.

Mary [via text one hour later]: He is here!

Actually he's in the stairwell walking out of the building. And I'm panicking because I think I need a witness and Marg's somewhere printing off a post-Simone teaching schedule which kicks in on March 31 as I fly into Dubai.

She makes it into the room right behind me holding aloft the Simone-free timetable as if to ward off any potential Gnoman attack arising from what I've just said:

Me: Gnome, I'm leaving. Resigning. I'm very bored and our relationship is never going to be any good.

Gnome sits back in his chair with a little 'Ooomph.'

I did warn you he was very Enid Blyton.

Gnome and Marg then begin a complicated jousting routine. Gnome half stands then sits. Makes shooing movements at Marg.

Marg returns shooing movements with paper timetable. Takes tiny steps forwards and back.

Gnome: Marg shouldn't, Marg doesn't. Does she need to be here for this?

Me [firmly, taking a chair and moving it between us]: Yes she does, Gnome. I want this to happen as smoothly as possible and Marg has worked out all the staffing!

Gnome collapses as Marg launches into her spiel eagerly. The Good Girl who behaves nicely. Who knows the right answers. Who volunteers for the teacher. Who never gets into trouble. The one you detest in The Naughtiest Girl Goes to School.

[Note: Let's not be fooled here. The Good Girl is a formidable manager, researcher and adminstrator. Which she manages to combine with an ongoing, perperpetual and apparently sincere niceness. To difficult teachers. To hideous students. To resigning Simones. And even to Gnome. Let's hope she doesn't get stomach ulcers anytime soon.]

It's over in 3 minutes. Gnome rushes out. Mary's office door bursts open. There they all are. Giggling. Breathing out. It was sardines in there.

Gotta love academia.

And I will. Elsewhere. I'm assuming Dubai has been de-Gnomed.

What? You haven't read Enid Blyton OR Harry Potter? Ridikulous!

Much love and talk soon – face to face with many of you I hope. Can't bloody wait.

Simone the [Rapturously] Resigned.


NB: All names have been changed to protect attendees. Thanks to J for the Gnome photo idea. And no, I don't actually call my boss Gnome. Helloooooo! Not even I'm that bad.

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