As a 19-year-old in college, having a job is pretty much a necessity. So, I started working in a restaurant almost two years ago as a host the summer before I moved into school because I wanted to save up some money.

After a few months I started to hate it, but every time I got fed up enough to consider quitting, I got paid. I could justify continuing to work there with the amount of money I was making because I thought it was more than I could get anywhere else. I was living at college Monday through Thursday, and working at home Friday-Sunday, and I was making $200+ every weekend.

I thought it couldn't get better than that. I had enough money to pay for everything I needed to pay for, and I still had some left over.

And then I realized how unhappy I was. Sure, I had more money than pretty much any of my friends in college, but what good was that if I was miserable?

My schedules were repeatedly getting messed up, a new restaurant opened close to us that took half of our business (which meant we were making less money), and it got to a point where I was paying people to work for me because I didn't want to do it.

So many of my close family members and friends had been telling me for months that I needed to quit my job because it was obviously taking a toll on the rest of my life. I kept telling them I could deal with it because I made a lot of money, but even then that was a weak argument.

Over winter break, I took two weeks off from work and flew across the country, because I could tell I needed a break. While I was there, I was offered a job working 20 hours a week, which was exactly what I wanted, and making only a little bit less. The friend who recommended that I work there has been there for nearly three years, and she really enjoys it.

I decided that this opportunity coming just when I was at my wit's end with my other job was a sign from the universe, so I made a plan to put my two weeks in at the beginning of March. The goal was to work both jobs for a couple of months while I finally worked up the courage to quit the bad one and take more hours at the good one.

After my first day at my new job, I could already tell I'd like it so much more, so I put my two weeks in almost immediately. I was really nervous and anxious from the time I put my notice in up until my very last clock out.

I shouldn't have been scared to quit a job, or scared to talk to anyone about it, but I was, and that's what told me it was time for me to leave. I don't want to call out my previous job or anyone that worked there, because I forged some real friendships and learned tons of valuable lessons, it just took being brave enough to actually quit (after threatening to for months) for me to realize it wasn't right for me.

I quit my job in favor of a new one, and I couldn't be happier. I love my new bosses and co-workers, and even though I make a little less money, my happiness and my sanity are totally worth having to tighten up my budget a bit.

I quit the job that was making me unhappy, and it was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself.