The beginning of the end...

I gave notice today. I received a lot of guilt and bullshit about responsibility in return. I responded, "Maybe it's because I'm an asshole American, but the only responsibility I have is to myself."

There was talk of getting rid of the kid's class I have, but I know better than to trust any talk of canceling classes.

When they asked what I would tell the students, what reason I would give for quitting, I said, "Well I'm not going to tell them about Y. [jack off kid], if that's what you mean."

But I must admit, there is a part of me that does feel bad for fucking them this way. I'm supposed to tell them tomorrow my final decision, as it were. Then the appropriate people will be called, dates and times arranged...

It is only two months more work when I return from Golden Week. Two months on paper isn't so bad. But two months of miserable work is a little different...

At what age will I grow out of this inability to decide?