I worked all the way through college, first year, second year, third year. the year i graduated.
the year after that.
and every year ever since. (with the odd one month sabbatical thrown in between jobs)
Now ten years into a working life, I have often wondered whether this was such a good thing. i’ll never know what it feels like to dawdle around in the college canteen the WHOLE day.
I didnt work for money, I got enough (ok, a younger me would contest that!) as pocket money, my parents didnt like me working but allowed me the freedom to do as I wished.
i cant remember what it was that made me bust my ass back then. at the time, it seemed like the natural thing to do. once i started working, i just couldnt stop. i dont remember cribbing about my job, back then tho i might sometimes do that now.
I do remember loving every minute of it, the independence, the late hours, sitting with the designer on the layout of the page, the power of knowing people read my stories (or not!) and holding the paper in the morning and savouring the moment as I read my byline. Nothing could beat that.
Thats why I find it hard to understand people today on their first job cribbing about the time they have to spend in office, the late hours, the work. if thats how you feel about your first job, you couldnt possibly enjoy it ten years down the line.
my advice to people who feel that way? quit. take a holiday. travel. and figure out what you want out of life. just dont sit around and crib about it, you could waste that time on better things.
binduiswriting
