Today I turned in my official resignation. I'd told my boss last Friday that I was putting in my notice, but I didn't put it in writing. She and HR were agreeable in that HR said they could back date the resignation so I would be eligible for vacation payout (I guess there's a policy stipulation that states if you don't give two weeks, you don't get the payout). Since the company was just purchased, there was a very nice severance package available to people that suck—or are managers. Funny that. If you aren't a valued employee, we're going to pay you a lot of money and let you go in 6 to 12 months. If you are a valued employee, we're going to reward you by giving you the finger and a year's worth of busy work amidst org chart mayhem. As a valued employee, I'm naturally bitter. During one of the phases of org chart shuffling (which continue to date), I was moved out of the web department and into a role that tasked some of my talents but otherwise just set me back about five years. Now, the talents I'm referring to have to do with data mining and management. Sure, I'm good at it. But that doesn't mean I like doing it, or have any interest in pursuing a greater level of excellence forthwith. In fact, at least today, I'd be happy to leave that to the DBAs. Who knows, maybe I'll discover a new love for it in a few years or even months. But for now, it, along with the other work, was basically turning my resume to dust. I told my boss that I wanted an out date—a nice way of trying to get severance—or a chance in the very near future to work on something remotely progressive. She came back the next day with the answer: the finger. Metaphorically, of course. My boss is a very nice person, and I feel for her situation. But for me, nothing. So naturally, job hunt went into full swing. Shortly after (hurray for networking!) I got an offer for precisely the kind of work I'm good at and enjoy doing, with the icing of getting to work in Java, and potentially .NET. Good stuff for the resume if nothing else. Much better than sitting on my thumbs for a year, that's for sure. So after the offer, I told my boss that I was putting in my notice, but as I said, nothing in writing. As I was telling my coworkers and friends about my impending departure, some suggested that I try for the severance. There was a clause, after all, that stipulated that should my job responsibilities be changed substatially (presumed for the worse), that I could quit and evoke my severance. Now I'm not much of a gambling man, and certainly not one for confrontation, but the payout we're talking about could do wonders for my financial situation. The problem was, I just didn't feel right about it. I talked it over with more people and over time, got in the mindset of "it doesn't hurt to try". Mostly. It was an ethical quagmire. On the one hand, I'm very unlikely to see these people again, and there's no way I'm going back there. And the money! But on the other hand, I couldn't truly convince myself that my circumstance was a valid case for the severance. I used to be quite fond of creative interpretation of rules, given that such interpretation would allow me to do whatever it was I wanted. But I've grown up. I've come to accept that many rules are there for many reasons. Obviously some are just dumb, but usually it's easy to tell them apart. I'm not a religious man, but in the absence of a fear of eternal damnation (etc etc), I still try to follow the straight and narrow. So what's the real price of pursuing this ethically gray path? You know, it doesn't matter because what it comes down to for me is answering the question "does this feel like the right thing to do?" And to that, the answer is no. After all the discourse and philosophical wranglings, it was harder to accept yes than no. Sure I could use the money, and maybe there's a chance I'd get it. But I guess I'll take what's behind door #2.