How To Quit

Quitting my sandwich job is a must:

1. I had limited availability because, well, I'm a student. Then, I got cast in the improv thang and now have a weekly showlet during the one day I worked a solid shift.
2. I'm really glad I got up close and personal with the meat slicer to fuel my future veggie-capades. But, today a little chunk of roast beef flew into my face as I ground it. I also found myself wanting a pastrami sandwich yesterday. Last. Straws.
3. I will be starting a much better job on campus proctoring tests to students with disabilities next week.

The sandwich people are so nice! How am I going to quit? I feel so bad that about 25% of me is like, "Oh, I guess I'll just have to work there until I die. Too bad I can't do improv/ will convert to a bacon-lover." They keep working to train me. They are highly encouraging and have given me so many free 'wiches! I obviously should just be a normal part-time employee, grab my paycheck, and never come into work again. Or, just call in, say "I'm busy" and peace.

BUT IT JUST SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE. QUITTING IS THE WORRRRRST.

Alternate Options:

1. Get someone from my improv group to go in while I'm on shift, pretend to be my brother, and scream that I am breaking the family rules by touching animal flesh.
2. Tell the owners I lost my scholarship and am moving back to Chicago. Tomorrow.
3. Get into an offensive conversation about the Bible being stupid. (They are all Christian.)
4. Call in, faking a severe injury--like losing both my hands.
5. Throw macaroni salad everywhere. Laugh and say, "Oh, that happens sometimes!"

Why is it I'd rather completely lose face with these people than just offer pretty decent reasons for leaving? Maybe because I just want them to feel like the winners, instead feeling gypped.* Do we think this kind of attitude is unhealthy?

*WOW I just realized the word "gypped" probably originates from "gypsy." I hadn't thought of that before. Add it to the list of words I no longer say. SIGH.