A practical checklist
Useful first, funny second. Run through this any time in your last two weeks. Save the page, share it with the friend who just gave notice, ignore the ones that don't apply.
Yes, including the photos you saved during the all-hands. Yes, including the side-project sketches you did between meetings. If it's yours and it's on company hardware, it's about to be inaccessible. IT will wipe the device the day after you leave; nobody is going to email you the rescued files.
The ones you'll actually need for taxes, references, or the off-chance someone disputes what you delivered. Not the ones you'll cry about. Check your contract first - some employers consider forwarding internal email a violation, even when the content is harmless. When in doubt, screenshot.
LinkedIn is not a backup. People change jobs, accounts get deactivated, and "the people I worked with" is a network you spent years building. Export to a CSV or just paste names and emails into a notes app. Future you, three jobs from now, will thank present you.
References fade. Memories shift. Receipts don't. The "great job on the launch" Slack message from two years ago is gold when you're updating your resume or asking a former manager for a recommendation. Take screenshots while you still have access.
Most contracts assign IP to the employer. That doesn't mean you can't show what you did, but you usually can't share the underlying files. Mock up sanitized versions, write up case studies in your own words, or grab screenshots of the public-facing parts. Check your contract; when ambiguous, ask HR before you leave.
Your old employer is not going to chase you down to reimburse you. They will, however, quietly close your expense system access two days after your last day. Get the receipts in, get them approved, get the money back. Today.
Some states (California, Colorado, others) require employers to pay out unused PTO at separation. Others don't, and "use it or lose it" is real. Look up your state's rule and your company's policy, then either burn the days or confirm the payout in writing.
Get it from payroll in writing. "We'll handle it" from your manager is not in writing. Some states require final pay on the last day; others allow it on the next regular payroll. Know which applies to you so you can spot a problem instead of discovering it three weeks later.
Quitting one week before a vesting cliff can cost you thousands. Sometimes tens of thousands. Look at your plan documents, find the next vesting date, and decide whether your quit date should slide. If staying two extra weeks is worth $8,000 in employer match, it's worth two extra weeks.
Three real options: roll it into your new employer's plan, roll it into an IRA, or leave it where it is. Cashing out is a fourth option that costs you 30-40% in taxes and penalties; don't. Make the call before day one of the new job, not three years later when you've forgotten the account exists.
Commuter benefits, charity matches, employer-sponsored ESPP contributions, HSA deductions tied to your current insurance. Some auto-terminate at separation; some don't and you'll find a surprise charge in month one of unemployment. Spend 15 minutes in the benefits portal before your last day.
Doctor, dentist, therapy, optometry, dermatology. Anything you'd normally drag your feet on. You have insurance now. In 30 days, you might not, or you might have something worse with a $4,000 deductible. Book everything. Bring the receipt to the new job emotionally if not financially.
Pharmacies will often let you fill 90 days at a time on existing prescriptions. The window between insurance plans is when prescriptions get expensive or unavailable. Talk to your doctor, ask for the long fill, get it before your coverage ends.
COBRA is usually a trap. It's your old plan at full unsubsidized cost - often $800 to $1,500 a month for one person. The healthcare.gov marketplace is frequently cheaper, especially if you're between jobs and your income will be lower this year. Run the numbers before electing COBRA; you have 60 days from your last day to decide.
Corporate phone plans, gym discounts, ClassPass credits, software licenses, parking passes. Anything subsidized through your employer disappears the second they deactivate you. Know what you'll lose and what you'll need to replace before your last day, not after.
The algorithm will broadcast your profile changes. Your boss is connected to you. Your boss's boss is connected to you. Wait until you've actually handed in your two weeks before updating titles, locations, or anything else that screams "I'm looking."
Don't surprise people. A reference who got a "hey, I'm putting you down for a quick call" message ahead of time is going to give a much better reference than one who got cold-called by your prospective employer. Three former colleagues is plenty. Send each one a brief note, the role you're applying for, and the rough timing.
Most are unenforceable. Some states ban them outright (California, Minnesota, North Dakota, Oklahoma). The FTC has been swinging at them too. But "unenforceable" is different from "harmless" - even an unenforceable non-compete can be used to threaten a lawsuit that costs you a job offer. Read what you signed, look up your state's rule, and decide if you need a lawyer's 30 minutes before joining a competitor.
Yes, now. The thing you skimmed on day one. Non-solicit clauses, IP assignment language, confidentiality terms, return-of-property requirements, mandatory arbitration. None of it changes between now and your last day, but you'll behave differently on the way out if you actually know what you signed.
The safe version is short, dated, with your last day stated and no parting shots. Send that one if you want to be done with this gracefully. The other option is the version you've been drafting in your head for the last six months, the one where the subtext finally becomes the text and your manager learns what you really think of the Q3 reorg. We built a resignation letter generator with voices ranging from grown-up professional to dry-as-toast to genuinely scorched-earth - draft whichever one matches how you actually feel right now, send whichever one is right for the room. (You can always write the spicy version first for catharsis and the safe version second for the file.)
Laptop, badge, hardware tokens, monitors if they were issued to you, anything else with a serial number. Take a photo of the returned items and email IT confirming the handover. Six months from now when someone in HR sends you a "we have you down for an unreturned MacBook" email, you'll have the receipt.
Browser passwords, signed-in accounts (Apple ID, Google, banking, anything), saved files in Downloads, Spotify history if that's a thing for you. Most companies will reimage the laptop, but "most" is not "all," and the next person to use your hardware doesn't need a tour of your personal life.
Most email systems lock you out the moment IT deactivates your account. Set the auto-reply with a clear "I've left [company]. For questions about [your area], contact [name]" before your last day ends. Otherwise people email a void and wonder if you've ghosted.
The industry is small. Your old boss is your future colleague's college roommate. The annoying VP you wanted to roast in the exit interview is going to be on your next prospective employer's board. Say what you need to say, but say it the way you'd want to hear it if the roles were reversed in five years. Then go.
You've got the list. Two more things to make the move official:
None of this is legal, tax, or HR advice. Your state's laws, your company's policies, and your specific contract matter more than any list on the internet. When the dollar amount is significant or the legal stakes are real, talk to a lawyer or an accountant.