It goes like this:
PDR: I think it would be best for me if I quit my job.
PDR: That sounds like a good idea.
PDR: Okay, but then what are you going to do?
PDR: I don’t know. I guess I could give school another shot. Seems like everybody thinks I should.
PDR: Right, right. Expensive, though.
PDR: I’ll get a student loan.
PDR: Okay, but I still hear that those aren’t really enough to go on.
PDR: Well, some kind of part-time job to supplement it would be alright.
PDR: Okay. Y’know the company you’re quitting is going to be short-staffed without you. They could use a part-timer.
PDR: Yeah. Alright, I guess I’ll do that.
So anyway, I have somehow been convinced to stick with my job for a few more months working two nights a week. I make it sound like I did it because I need the money above, and while I do need the money, it is really more that I don’t want to screw anyone over as I leave. I mean, I don’t care about the company as a whole, but there are people there whose lives I don’t want to make harder.
But also, the money is a part of my reason for accepting the part-time role. That makes me sad. Though, as of now, I’ve only agreed to go until the holidays are over this will bring me past that ten-year milestone I mentioned before. So I hate myself for that. I’m at some point where mitigating the monetary problems I’m soon to have seems like the wiser option, even if it partially deflates my reasoning for going back to school in the first place, which was to quit the job.
Ah well, nobody said I had to quit all at once. The end result should still be the same. I guess that is what matters.