Ch-ch-ch-changes!

I'm quitting my job.
No, not my substituting job. My bartending job.
That's right.
No more gross, dirty, disgusting old men who make me feel ashamed to be young or married.
No more bitchy women who think they own this town.
No more jerks who think they own the tavern.
No more $1 tips for serving the same couple after making sure they have a drink every time the empty glass hits the bar for the last 8 hours.
No more.
No more.
No more.
No more sleeping in on Monday mornings because I'm too tired from bartending 30 hours over the last weekend.
No more minimum wage.
No more turning down sub jobs on Fridays because I am already putting in 9.5 hours bartending and can't bare the thought of putting in another 8 before I go in for the night.
No more wasting my college degree and certification.
No more weekends away from my husband and son.
No more temptation to drink and act completely ridiculous.
Ugh.
I'm done bartending in July.
It feels good.
No--it feels great.
Of course this means a whole new slew of problems.
I have to find a daycare or babysitter for Evan. And the new baby.
I have to find something we can afford.
I have to accept crappy sub jobs.
But I get to use my degree and teach and be in a classroom and have my family at night.
Relief and bliss.