They never promised you a rose garden

I don't know what to do. 

1. Quit my job at the Dumass Corparation now,
2. Wait to quit until I find another job, or
3. Stay and be a number 1 pain in their backside for a few more months.  (I'm good at everything I do so I'm sure I could be an extraordinarily irritating PIA.)

I won't go into details in case someone at the Dumass Corporation should happen to stumble upon this blog and recognize him/her self and I haven't completely ruled out # 2 or # 3 yet, but they've really ticked me off.   I've already written my resignation letter, but it needs a little polishing before I mail it.  To say the least, it may be slightly rude.

Somebody asked me today how I could be so calm about it.  How do I explain that I'm so mad I can't sleep.  I can't read.  I can't even watch TV.   If I stop being calm ... I quit.  I'm not ruling that out, mind you, but by the time you get to be my age you've learned to be a little cautious.   Timing is everything whether you're baking a cake or telling management at the Dumass Corporation where to go.

Tell me something.  Why do managers go out of their way to make themselves such jackasses? 

Are there any managers out there who would be willing to answer that question? 
Well, don't bother.  You're a manager, therefore, you're a liar.  It's in your contract.  The jackass contract.