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Abstract

p>Perhaps my experience is different because I’ve lived a less privileged life for my whole existence. I’ve only lived in apartments all but four years of my life. I lived paycheck-to-paycheck with my mom. My dad and <a href="https://readmedium.com/working-at-starbucks-was-awful-fc48f506698d">stepmom</a> couldn’t afford to provide anything but the essentials. I only got 1 haircut in the 5 years I lived with my dad and stepmom. My dad would cut my hair once a month with a corded clipper in the kitchen. I’ve been living independently for the last 9 years, working and going to school full-time, making less than my parents, and at times questioning the ability to pay for my next meal.Another realization from last night: you don’t have to like what you do.Perhaps, again, my past has influenced my present perception. I’ve been working customer service food jobs since I was 16 years old, or the last 13 years of my life. <a href="https://readmedium.com/working-at-starbucks-was-awful-fc48f506698d">Starbucks was by far the most challenging job I’ve ever experienced</a>. Wake up at 3:30am, clock in at 4:30am, and work until 1pm. My 8-hour shift felt similar to war movies.Enemies (customers) rushing you from every angle — lobby, drive-thru, and drink handoff. Enemies yelling orders and commands at you while you attempt to make a line of drinks. Ducking and dodging espresso flying in the air like bullets in the sky. Allies feeling overwhelmed and anxious because of the pressure to hurry to avoid the fury of the enemy.But Starbucks was physically less torturous than working as a busser at a local fine dining restaurant. Because of COVID, the dist

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ance I had to walk from customer table to kitchen sink to drop off dishes was lengthy. At open and close I had to carry over 60 heavy wooden chairs. And lug propane tanks and heaters around the patio. I’d walk on average 11 miles per 5–6 hour shift. I felt more exhausted as a busser than I did playing basketball every day and lifting weights 6 days a week in high school.But, honestly, the work I’ve done the last three days was less than glamorous, to say the least. I was doing the duties of a factory worker: essentially, preparing and labeling boxes. I did the same mindless, repetitive motion for 15 hours a day. My back aches, my head hurts, and my fingers have massive blisters on them.But I made significantly more money than I did at Starbucks, the fine dining restaurant, and other factory workers.Is the work I’m doing ideal, purposeful, what I imagined doing as a little kid or what I want to do permanently?No and yes. No — the work isn’t ideal or fulling or what I dreamed of. But, yes — I’ll do it permanently despite my desire to be a full-time writer because, well, I’m already getting paid respectively and could receive a raise and earn $100,000 a year sooner than later.The moral of the story?Well, I guess there’s 2:1.Don’t judge yourself for wanting to make money or feeling happy about the moolah you make.2.You don’t have to love what you do or be passionate about it.But I digress.<a href="https://mailchi.mp/588438a6b6cb/insideout">The Inside & Out</a> email list will help you achieve your internal and external goals.</article></body>

Money Will Make You Happier

And 1 Other Misconception About Moolah

I worked 20 hours on 1 hour of sleep yesterday.

I was awake from 7:30am on April 8th until 7am on April 9th and worked 20 of those 23 & 1/2 hours.

In the last 72 hours (3 days), I worked 47 hours (15 hours per day on average).

I slept 8 hours in the last three days.

My back feels like it got punched by Mike Tyson. I woke up with the most painful headache I’ve ever had. But I’m the happiest I’ve been because I made decent money, and I’m on pace to make $6'000/month — the most I’ve ever made in my life and more than anyone in my family besides my grandpa.

Now, I’m not going to work the number of hours I have in the last 3 days or work 20 hours in a day, but I’m willing to do that a couple of times a month to feel as joyful, content, and confident as I feel today. And I can still make at least $6,000/month working 5–8 hours a day.

While almost passing out from sleep deprivation, I realized that I’d been lied to for my whole life. A book, a podcast, or video somewhere in my past made me believe money wouldn’t make me happy. The opposite couldn’t be any more true.

Perhaps my experience is different because I’ve lived a less privileged life for my whole existence. I’ve only lived in apartments all but four years of my life. I lived paycheck-to-paycheck with my mom. My dad and stepmom couldn’t afford to provide anything but the essentials. I only got 1 haircut in the 5 years I lived with my dad and stepmom. My dad would cut my hair once a month with a corded clipper in the kitchen. I’ve been living independently for the last 9 years, working and going to school full-time, making less than my parents, and at times questioning the ability to pay for my next meal.

Another realization from last night: you don’t have to like what you do.

Perhaps, again, my past has influenced my present perception. I’ve been working customer service food jobs since I was 16 years old, or the last 13 years of my life. Starbucks was by far the most challenging job I’ve ever experienced. Wake up at 3:30am, clock in at 4:30am, and work until 1pm. My 8-hour shift felt similar to war movies.

Enemies (customers) rushing you from every angle — lobby, drive-thru, and drink handoff. Enemies yelling orders and commands at you while you attempt to make a line of drinks. Ducking and dodging espresso flying in the air like bullets in the sky. Allies feeling overwhelmed and anxious because of the pressure to hurry to avoid the fury of the enemy.

But Starbucks was physically less torturous than working as a busser at a local fine dining restaurant. Because of COVID, the distance I had to walk from customer table to kitchen sink to drop off dishes was lengthy. At open and close I had to carry over 60 heavy wooden chairs. And lug propane tanks and heaters around the patio. I’d walk on average 11 miles per 5–6 hour shift. I felt more exhausted as a busser than I did playing basketball every day and lifting weights 6 days a week in high school.

But, honestly, the work I’ve done the last three days was less than glamorous, to say the least. I was doing the duties of a factory worker: essentially, preparing and labeling boxes. I did the same mindless, repetitive motion for 15 hours a day. My back aches, my head hurts, and my fingers have massive blisters on them.

But I made significantly more money than I did at Starbucks, the fine dining restaurant, and other factory workers.

Is the work I’m doing ideal, purposeful, what I imagined doing as a little kid or what I want to do permanently?

No and yes. No — the work isn’t ideal or fulling or what I dreamed of. But, yes — I’ll do it permanently despite my desire to be a full-time writer because, well, I’m already getting paid respectively and could receive a raise and earn $100,000 a year sooner than later.

The moral of the story?

Well, I guess there’s 2:

1.Don’t judge yourself for wanting to make money or feeling happy about the moolah you make.

2.You don’t have to love what you do or be passionate about it.

But I digress.

The Inside & Out email list will help you achieve your internal and external goals.