I have some quitting to do.
I know I told you I was done with my gig at the high school – and I am, I’m not reneging on that – it’s just that I haven’t made it official yet.
In other words, I haven’t quit.
I hate qutting. I even hate the sound of the word. It’s a hard, spitting, hateful word.
It’s like no – another word I hate.
For me, both words are associated with the end of somthing, and I’m much fonder of beginnings than of endings. (That’s why I have half a dozen stories started in my creative writing folder and not one of them finished!)
I haven’t told anyone I was quitting partly because I didn’t want any end of the year hoopla about my leaving, and partly because I didn’t want to spoil any of the final concerts.
But mostly because I’m a chicken. That word tends to stick in my throat.
But I have to say to my friend Don (the new director at the high school) – “I’m really sorry, Donny, but I can’t come back next year. It’s time for me to move on.”
Hey, there’s the sound of a beginning in there after all. “Moving on” implies moving forward to something new and different, perhaps something even better. After all, I’ve hung around doing this job far longer than I ever intended, mostly as a favor to my friends, and now I’m going to think about what’s good for me.
Who knows what this moving on process will get me into. But I’m going to quit being a coward about this and make my departure official so I can get on with the next phase of my musical life.