I Ain't No Quitter

Yesterday I quit my job, and I don't think I can begin to explain how big of a deal that is because to be quite honest I'm really bad at quitting things. Originally, I had taken on the serving job because I couldn't reside in the District of Columbia too much longer without a regular income. After a couple weeks, it became apparent to me that the only part of being a server I was good at was entertaining people. I had dropped three drinks on people, two of which were beer, one of which was somehow awkwardly poured down a woman's back. When I serve, I exhibit a nearly bipolar attitude, smiling large and proudly at the table... but as soon as I turn around just a quarter of the way from the table, I instantly lose my smile because at some point someone would ask me "Are the pretzels here salty?" or "Which beers tastes the least like beer?" or my favorite being Stare at the check, look up at me disgruntled, stare at the check, sigh... give me the check back as if to say 'Yeah, you're about to get a terrible tip. I like to imagine where these people work and what they do because with questions like that, the work can't be too trying.

But regardless, I stuck with it because to keep on living in an apartment, you have to have money. It was my second job, so when I recently got my newest internship in public relations, I knew that I had gotten in over my head. If I didn't figure out how to drop a job soon, the fatigue was going to turn into full blown exhaustion and then I was going to pull a much more awkward version of Norma Rae and stand up on a customer's table with a sign that said "PEACHES," which bears no significance to the job I work or Norma Rae for that matter. So earlier this week, I went in to my manager's office ready to turn in my two week's notice and after announcing that I needed to tell them something, she turned to me and said, "You aren't turning in your two week notice, right?" I froze. Quitting is not my forte. "Oh, um, goodness no! I was just coming to tell you that I got my new job!" No, Justin. You were coming to put in your two week notice and you just crumbled like a sample cookie from the grocery store. Blame it on my work ethic or my fear of disappointing people or Shania Twain circa 2004, but I ain't no quitter. (And in a Throwing Up in Kindergarten first, I have included a point video for reference. You're welcome).
And Shania and I are no stranger to an awkward situation that we'd like to quit... look at that super awkward 15 year marriage between her and that guy named Mutt. She was obviously the keeper in that situation, and still she stuck around because Shania is no quitter. Then there's me who probably isn't a quitter under very different circumstances. When I take on something, I commit to them mostly because I don't want to have to deal with the struggle that follows quitting something: thus, why I could never be a vegetarian, still smoke cigarettes, watch an immense amount of TLC shows, and still have this thing for Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain. I don't quit things because I get nervous, and when I think about my most difficult situations to quit, I think back to my time as web editor of my college news paper. First and foremost, I want to apologize to The Highland Echo for one of the most blatant half-ass attempts I ever gave to any organization I was in. Furthermore, I want to apologize for the three months that I acted as your web editor with little to no knowledge of HTML. But in my defense, I really did (at least in my mind) try to quit about two weeks into the process. Let me elaborate.
I decided to be web editor under the pretense that I had kept a blog once and that I was pretty good at making Myspace layouts back in 2002. However, pretty early in to the project, I knew it was something that I couldn't do, so I approached the advisor with a speech in mind: Mr. Trevathan, Kim... friend. As honored as I am to do this work for The Highland Echo, I find this work akin to translating Mandarin to the Chinese government or doing open heart surgery on a toddler. I am sorry to say that I'll have to resign. But what actually came out was "I find this to be really challenging, and I don't think I can do it... oh? you have faith in me. Sure? I guess I can keep on trying... I still have no idea what's goi... okay, I'll keep trying." Honestly I had that conversation about three different times over the course of three months, and each on got more and more awkward. I sadly never got to actually use the prepared speech, though words like that may have proved too powerful for the situation at hand. But with each attempt, I became more and more desperate. I couldn't pull it all off and the shadow of disappointment was becoming smaller and smaller in comparison to the shadow of absolute failure that was growing with each failed line of HTML that I had not written. After three months, we still had no online newspaper, and I would just sit shaking in front of a blank white screen that demanded a language that I had no ability to speak.
Eventually, I just plainly said, "I haven't done any work, and I doubt I ever will. I seriously have no idea what I got myself into," and then I avoided Mr. Trevathan for at least two semesters to let the smoke clear. A year later, I got a call from a small feeblish voice that I almost recognized as my own. It was Marie, the then-current web editor of the paper begging for my advice on how to quit. I had become a legend in the quitting community; I was the example of being trapped in something that makes you want to rip your hair out. So I instructed her how to exit, and then essentially begged that she never spoke my name in regard to the matter again. After all, no matter what I've left behind, I maintain the motto, I ain't no quitter.