The countdown to August begins.

I’ve decided to leave journalism — at least professionally. It’s odd to me that I care so much about leaving a field that has mostly left me unfulfilled and frustrated. But I do.

It was what I chose when I entered college — the kid whose highest ACT score was in reading and lowest was in English; the kid who didn’t put any thought into the university or major he picked but knew he loved, loved the news.

I never felt at home making the product, despite loving to consume it. I never could reconcile my passionate, deep interest in conservatism as a government and life philosophy with the industry full of left-wingers and intellectually insincere myopics who clamor against “bias” but spew it with every keystroke.

In the time I have left in the field that I have spent the last five years learning about I plan to do the best job I can. I want to produce reports I can be proud of, even with the difficulties of working in a severely underfunded newsroom with a short-sighted, arrogant, unnewsy managing editor and an unconscionable policy of two bylines a day.

I’ll be there, plugging away, waiting for August.