Recently, I attempted to go back to school. Not very hard, mind you; I signed up for a once-a-week evening class at the local community college. And, rather than starting some general education course that would allow my brain to shift gears and think about something other than work, the course I chose was distinctly work-related.

I honestly don’t know what I was thinking.

I resolved that I would stick to the class, no matter what. Because I’m an inveterate quitter, and I’m trying to change. So I sat there, while the teacher kept telling us how we need to change our attitudes if we wanted to make it in the real world (I just came from the “real world”. Can I go?); I sat through the lectures that went nowhere, taught nothing, and still managed to last four hours. I did not get up and leave when, six weeks into the course, the teacher realized that he had the wrong edition of the book he was supposed to be teaching from. I did the homework that he never looked at, took the quizzes he never returned. I was sticking with it.

And then I quit.

I know, I know. I had expressly forbidden myself from quitting. But you have to understand, this was different; this was…

Oh my god, it felt good. To quit. It felt so amazingly awesome that I wanted to sign up and quit again. It was like breaking the surface and taking a breath of cool, fresh air. Light and joy had returned to my life. Holy crap, quitting was the best thing ever.

That’s probably a dangerous attitude to have. Because I’ll take any excuse to leave something half done, if it’s an option. And yet, again, I’ll contend that this time was different. Because it’s the first time I’ve learned something from a class that I’d dropped.

The lesson: Don’t try to complete things for completeness’ sake; if something is dragging you down, or a pointless waste of resources, cut it off. What would I have gained from sticking with the class-from-hell? One-point-five units. That’s all. What I gained from quitting, however, is a grounding in the subject, an authoritative book on it, and confidence that I can learn it all on my own — all things I would not have gained if I hadn’t taken the class in the first place.

So, quitting was the optimal approach: I spent exactly as much time in the class as I needed to get what I wanted, and dropped it before it crushed my will to live. I just need to learn to do that with some other aspects of my life, and I’ll be all set.