Two Weeks Notice

This week I am putting in my two weeks notice.

As I've explained before, most of my classes are run through two organizations called Get English and The English Centre. In respect to these classes, I have two bosses who provide me with support and manage my schedule. Tomorrow, I am going to inform them that in two weeks time, I will cease to be available for classes, at least until the end of July.

This final decision came rather suddenly after weeks of consideration. When I first started teaching regularly in January, I had initially planned to finish out the semester, and continue teaching until mid-June, or until my students went on summer vacation.

But as I taught for a couple of months, and gained a better feel for the profession, it started to become clear that I would have to make a choice between my job and any future travel plans.

In the field of freelance teaching, there isn't much room for "sick" days. I don't get paid vacation, and there aren't many opportunities to get a sub to cover my classes. Normally, this isn't a problem because teachers usually get a portion of the summer off, and I didn't see a problem with this when I accepted my classes in January. But, as always, special circumstances arose.

First, Jon began to firm up his plans to visit me again after he graduates. And it turned out, he had a perfect two week window in between graduation and his first day at his new job. Great. The only problem was that it was in the beginning of June, which did not fit into my class timeline. But, there was nothing we could do about it. Jon and I had been talking about traveling Northern Spain together for months, even before I came to Barcelona, and we had planned on doing it after graduation. But, we had responsibly and maturely given up on those plans when I took my jobs with no vacation time, and decided that he would still come visit, but I would continue class as normal while he's here. Not the best option, but okay.

Second, in January my Dad decided to come visit me in Barcelona. He's coming to Europe on a business trip, and will skip on over to see me for a couple of weeks. On top of that, he's going to fly out my brother after finals to visit me, too. All of this  will happen mid-May. Again, before my classes end. Not ideal, but okay.

One day on the metro, I was feeling particularly bummed about the way these events unfolded. I was excited to have my family visit, but sad about the prospect of missing any weekend trips with them. I was really looking forward to having Jon visit again, but depressed at the thought of giving up all hope of our grand backpacking adventure through Northern Spain.

And then it occurred to me: What am I doing? Did I really come to Spain to work 40 hours per week? Is it possible that I am allowing the work that I take seriously (but let's face it not that seriously) keep me from traveling with my family and boyfriend? Am I letting myself pass a likely once in a lifetime opportunity of experiences?

And it was on that metro several weeks ago when I decided: I'm going to quit my jobs. [cue motivational build-up music] I'm just going to do it. I am going to take advantage of being 23-years-old (an age when I can still pull off making ludicrous and financially irresponsible decisions) and I'm going to do it. Adventure is out there, and I'm going to quit all my jobs to find it.

The truth is, teaching English isn't my only priority here in Spain. Yes, I want to have my first taste of teaching, and yes I work hard at it every day. But I also came here to see new things, have fabulous worldly experiences, and travel. And my classes with my bosses are just not flexible enough to allow for spontaneous (or even planned, for that matter) travel.

And so it was. I talked it over with my Dad and Jon, and all parties agreed that it would be rather silly to miss an awesome month of travel and quality family time to work an extra couple of weeks. And so together we decided that my last day of work will be Friday, May 18th.

And I honestly couldn't be happier about it.