I’ve always told people that my first job was as a sales assistant at MPH. I loved every second of it, surrounded by books that I could read and borrow, attending to well mannered customers, sorting out pretty stationary.. it was awesome.
But the truth is that right after high school, the first job I applied for and received was as a waitress at a restaurant in the local mall. I was so excited on my first day. But as the hours wore on, and the plates piled up, and the smattering of customers waned, a sense of dread began to sink into me. That night, when my father picked me up, I knew one thing for certain, and that was that I didn’t want that job. I apologised, and gave my notice the very next day. The week after, I secured my job at MPH, and ended up working there for five months right until I started my degree.
It’s a funny fact that years later, across the world, and as a whole other person, I ended up working as a waitress at a local deli in Brighton.. and I loved every second of it. Maybe at the time, back then, the waitressing job just wasn’t for me.
Today, almost ten years after that first day at that first job, as I sat crying in the car in the traffic jam on Federal Highway... I wish I had the absolute confidence of seventeen-year-old me. I’ve been given the chance at an amazing opportunity in the corporate career ladder, in an industry that I am interested in, absolutely. So who am I to question rezeki, and timing, right?
But somewhere in my heart I know what makes me feel alive and what ignites my soul. And right now, this... this isn’t it.
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