The same people who brought you the BreakUp Text app team up with job site The Ladders to bring you the Quit Your Job app. Simple, no? (Credit: Quit Your Job) People aren't used to staring each other in the face anymore. This makes telling your boss to go and shove his mindless, exploitative job a touch awkward. You waft into his or her office (if he or she has one) and then neither of you knows what to say or do next. More Technically Incorrect Yes, tossing boiling water in cold air makes snow (but it also burns you) Dallas police chief proudly announces firings on Twitter Flight makes emergency landing after camera found in bathroom Pilot claims he saw UFO about to hit plane, so he ducked Canada's ex-defense minister: Aliens would give us more tech if we'd stop wars "Um, well," you mutter. "I've, er, decided to move on." What follows is then a conversation around the houses, in which little is said and and even less eye contact is made. Honestly, at times like this, you wish that there was such a thing as verbal emoji. Thankfully, the benign psychologists behind BreakUp Text -- the app that sends a text to inform your lover that it's over -- have decided to come to your rescue. They have created the Quit Your Job app, which composes as your job decomposes. You choose your essential reasons for leaving, then it creates a suitably florid text and sends it to your boss. It begins by offering you three routes for the exit: "I'm sick of the corporate world," "I want to get rich," and "I found a new job." But then it offers that the dream you've chosen to follow might be as diverse as "I've decided to run for Senate" or "I'm going to dance for money." Oddly, these two options seem identical to me. Now when I say the texts that are created are florid, I really meant it. Here's a sample: Lucifer, Outside the office window today, there floated a butterfly. It danced in the wind; graceful and elegant. Turning my stare back inside, my desk mate gorged on a rather pungent tuna fish sandwich. A part of me died as I watched him miss his mouth slightly, globs of tuna and mayonnaise falling in chunks on his shirt. So I quit. I quit my job where I'm surrounded by ogres and am going to become rich as an exquisite dancer. I know I don't have any experience, but if I start now I can be a prima ballerina in what, 10 years? Screw that. I want to make MONEY. I still quit. I'll just find a joint in Vegas where I'm paid cash - exclusively in ones. You must decide whether your boss would have sufficient attention span (or intelligence) to enjoy the lyricism on display here. What is extremely peculiar, though, is that famed highfalutin job site The Ladders is also involved in this enterprise. Indeed, its CEO, Alex Douzet, offered these somber, yet hopeful, words: "In an age when nearly everything can be done from the convenience of your smartphone, we thought job resignation was an area that needed some attention." Jake Levine, who created this app with Lauren Leto, told me that he and Douzet already knew each other and that the idea emerged from an entirely sober social meeting between the two. Perhaps, in our supremely connected future, we will all allow an app to pen our innermost quitting thoughts and send them to our superiors. There is, though, a problem with using this app if you work for Zappos. They've abolished job titles there, so who would you send the text to? Strong endorsement. (Credit: Quit Your Job)

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The same people who brought you the BreakUp Text app team up with job site The Ladders to bring you the Quit Your Job app. Simple, no? (Credit: Quit Your Job) People aren't used to staring each other in the face anymore. This makes telling your boss to go and shove his mindless, exploitative job a touch awkward. You waft into his or her office (if he or she has one) and then neither of you knows what to say or do next. More Technically Incorrect Yes, tossing boiling water in cold air makes snow (but it also burns you) Dallas police chief proudly announces firings on Twitter Flight makes emergency landing after camera found in bathroom Pilot claims he saw UFO about to hit plane, so he ducked Canada's ex-defense minister: Aliens would give us more tech if we'd stop wars "Um, well," you mutter. "I've, er, decided to move on." What follows is then a conversation around the houses, in which little is said and and even less eye contact is made. Honestly, at times like this, you wish that there was such a thing as verbal emoji. Thankfully, the benign psychologists behind BreakUp Text -- the app that sends a text to inform your lover that it's over -- have decided to come to your rescue. They have created the Quit Your Job app, which composes as your job decomposes. You choose your essential reasons for leaving, then it creates a suitably florid text and sends it to your boss. It begins by offering you three routes for the exit: "I'm sick of the corporate world," "I want to get rich," and "I found a new job." But then it offers that the dream you've chosen to follow might be as diverse as "I've decided to run for Senate" or "I'm going to dance for money." Oddly, these two options seem identical to me. Now when I say the texts that are created are florid, I really meant it. Here's a sample: Lucifer, Outside the office window today, there floated a butterfly. It danced in the wind; graceful and elegant. Turning my stare back inside, my desk mate gorged on a rather pungent tuna fish sandwich. A part of me died as I watched him miss his mouth slightly, globs of tuna and mayonnaise falling in chunks on his shirt. So I quit. I quit my job where I'm surrounded by ogres and am going to become rich as an exquisite dancer. I know I don't have any experience, but if I start now I can be a prima ballerina in what, 10 years? Screw that. I want to make MONEY. I still quit. I'll just find a joint in Vegas where I'm paid cash - exclusively in ones. You must decide whether your boss would have sufficient attention span (or intelligence) to enjoy the lyricism on display here. What is extremely peculiar, though, is that famed highfalutin job site The Ladders is also involved in this enterprise. Indeed, its CEO, Alex Douzet, offered these somber, yet hopeful, words: "In an age when nearly everything can be done from the convenience of your smartphone, we thought job resignation was an area that needed some attention." Jake Levine, who created this app with Lauren Leto, told me that he and Douzet already knew each other and that the idea emerged from an entirely sober social meeting between the two. Perhaps, in our supremely connected future, we will all allow an app to pen our innermost quitting thoughts and send them to our superiors. There is, though, a problem with using this app if you work for Zappos. They've abolished job titles there, so who would you send the text to? Strong endorsement. (Credit: Quit Your Job)

The same people who brought you the BreakUp Text app team up with job site The Ladders to bring you the Quit Your Job app. Simple, no? (Credit: Quit Your Job) People aren't used to staring each other in the face anymore. This makes telling your boss to go and shove his mindless, exploitative job a touch awkward. You waft into his or her office (if he or she has one) and then neither of you knows what to say or do next. More Technically Incorrect Yes, tossing boiling water in cold air makes snow (but it also burns you) Dallas police chief proudly announces firings on Twitter Flight makes emergency landing after camera found in bathroom Pilot claims he saw UFO about to hit plane, so he ducked Canada's ex-defense minister: Aliens would give us more tech if we'd stop wars "Um, well," you mutter. "I've, er, decided to move on." What follows is then a conversation around the houses, in which little is said and and even less eye contact is made. Honestly, at times like this, you wish that there was such a thing as verbal emoji. Thankfully, the benign psychologists behind BreakUp Text -- the app that sends a text to inform your lover that it's over -- have decided to come to your rescue. They have created the Quit Your Job app, which composes as your job decomposes. You choose your essential reasons for leaving, then it creates a suitably florid text and sends it to your boss. It begins by offering you three routes for the exit: "I'm sick of the corporate world," "I want to get rich," and "I found a new job." But then it offers that the dream you've chosen to follow might be as diverse as "I've decided to run for Senate" or "I'm going to dance for money." Oddly, these two options seem identical to me. Now when I say the texts that are created are florid, I really meant it. Here's a sample: Lucifer, Outside the office window today, there floated a butterfly. It danced in the wind; graceful and elegant. Turning my stare back inside, my desk mate gorged on a rather pungent tuna fish sandwich. A part of me died as I watched him miss his mouth slightly, globs of tuna and mayonnaise falling in chunks on his shirt. So I quit. I quit my job where I'm surrounded by ogres and am going to become rich as an exquisite dancer. I know I don't have any experience, but if I start now I can be a prima ballerina in what, 10 years? Screw that. I want to make MONEY. I still quit. I'll just find a joint in Vegas where I'm paid cash - exclusively in ones. You must decide whether your boss would have sufficient attention span (or intelligence) to enjoy the lyricism on display here. What is extremely peculiar, though, is that famed highfalutin job site The Ladders is also involved in this enterprise. Indeed, its CEO, Alex Douzet, offered these somber, yet hopeful, words: "In an age when nearly everything can be done from the convenience of your smartphone, we thought job resignation was an area that needed some attention." Jake Levine, who created this app with Lauren Leto, told me that he and Douzet already knew each other and that the idea emerged from an entirely sober social meeting between the two. Perhaps, in our supremely connected future, we will all allow an app to pen our innermost quitting thoughts and send them to our superiors. There is, though, a problem with using this app if you work for Zappos. They've abolished job titles there, so who would you send the text to? Strong endorsement. (Credit: Quit Your Job)

Posted by : Unknown Tuesday, January 7, 2014

The same people who brought you the BreakUp Text app team up with job site The Ladders to bring you the Quit Your Job app.

Simple, no?

(Credit: Quit Your Job)

People aren't used to staring each other in the face anymore.

This makes telling your boss to go and shove his mindless, exploitative job a touch awkward.

You waft into his or her office (if he or she has one) and then neither of you knows what to say or do next.

More Technically Incorrect

Yes, tossing boiling water in cold air makes snow (but it also burns you)

Dallas police chief proudly announces firings on Twitter

Flight makes emergency landing after camera found in bathroom

Pilot claims he saw UFO about to hit plane, so he ducked

Canada's ex-defense minister: Aliens would give us more tech if we'd stop wars

"Um, well," you mutter. "I've, er, decided to move on." What follows is then a conversation around the houses, in which little is said and and even less eye contact is made.

Honestly, at times like this, you wish that there was such a thing as verbal emoji.

Thankfully, the benign psychologists behind BreakUp Text -- the app that sends a text to inform your lover that it's over -- have decided to come to your rescue.

They have created the Quit Your Job app, which composes as your job decomposes. You choose your essential reasons for leaving, then it creates a suitably florid text and sends it to your boss.

It begins by offering you three routes for the exit: "I'm sick of the corporate world," "I want to get rich," and "I found a new job."

But then it offers that the dream you've chosen to follow might be as diverse as "I've decided to run for Senate" or "I'm going to dance for money." Oddly, these two options seem identical to me.

Now when I say the texts that are created are florid, I really meant it. Here's a sample:

Lucifer, Outside the office window today, there floated a butterfly. It danced in the wind; graceful and elegant. Turning my stare back inside, my desk mate gorged on a rather pungent tuna fish sandwich. A part of me died as I watched him miss his mouth slightly, globs of tuna and mayonnaise falling in chunks on his shirt. So I quit. I quit my job where I'm surrounded by ogres and am going to become rich as an exquisite dancer. I know I don't have any experience, but if I start now I can be a prima ballerina in what, 10 years? Screw that. I want to make MONEY. I still quit. I'll just find a joint in Vegas where I'm paid cash - exclusively in ones.

You must decide whether your boss would have sufficient attention span (or intelligence) to enjoy the lyricism on display here.

What is extremely peculiar, though, is that famed highfalutin job site The Ladders is also involved in this enterprise.

Indeed, its CEO, Alex Douzet, offered these somber, yet hopeful, words: "In an age when nearly everything can be done from the convenience of your smartphone, we thought job resignation was an area that needed some attention."

Jake Levine, who created this app with Lauren Leto, told me that he and Douzet already knew each other and that the idea emerged from an entirely sober social meeting between the two.

Perhaps, in our supremely connected future, we will all allow an app to pen our innermost quitting thoughts and send them to our superiors.

There is, though, a problem with using this app if you work for Zappos. They've abolished job titles there, so who would you send the text to?