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I’m Glad I Hated My First Job
Hindsight is both your enemy and your friend.
“Max, you’re working tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said meekly. “That’s fine.”
Internally, I was screaming. Every week was the same. Despite saying I couldn’t work on Sundays, my first manager would give me my Sunday shift the day before, denying me the opportunity to play football.
I hated my first job. It wasn’t much. All I did was serve sausage rolls and coffee, but now I twitch whenever I smell some pastry (not that it stops me from eating it, of course).
Looking back, I couldn’t get out of there quick enough. It meant I was able to play football once again, and I was happy. But hindsight is a funny thing.
Hating my first job and the next few after taught me some valuable lessons I started learning seven years later.
Here they are.
Resentment builds drive
A job is a job, right? So I didn’t judge my manager on his position. Instead, I projected his life into a future version of mine.
Suffice to say; I didn’t like what I saw.
This was my first job in the hospitality/retail sector. Over the ensuing six years, I’d go on to work in a pub, clothes and health…
