Parting such expensive sorrow

I swear to God if I see another brown envelope I may lose it (not the envelope… just “it” - that thing you lose when they say: “He’s lost it”. Oh, you know what I mean).

It’s no wonder I don’t have any money with the number of collections I’ve given to recently.

First, one of my newsdesk colleagues left to have a baby. And I like her, so that cost me a bit (and I had to get the stuff, which I enjoyed a bit too much I think. I wanted to keep half of it for myself).

Then a sub left and out came the begging bowl again. Then a reporter left. Then someone else went off to have a baby. Then another sub left (today, actually). I mean to say!

And what’s more, there’s the leaving card. You can’t just put “best wishes” (or at least I can’t. It seems lazy). There’s a pressure to be original. And funny. And if you don’t get in first and someone else writes something hilarious, then what do you do?

I have an idea. I’m going to leave. I need the money. Then I could come back and keep leaving, I could make a fortune.

Oh. I’ve just been told if I leave, they don’t want me back. Something about not letting a door hit me somewhere on the way out…