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An Open Letter to Anyone Who Hates Their Job
Tired of Selling Your Soul In Bi-Weekly Paychecks?
If you hate your current job, this letter is for you.
I’ll never forget the feeling of selling my soul. It was years ago, but the feeling creeps back when I sell too much of my business and personal power to other companies who like my consulting.
For me, in the early days, selling out was always in bi-weekly paychecks because all jobs had payrolls, so the government could easily collect taxes.
As you’ll soon, I don’t regret a minute of those terrible jobs knowing what I know today.
First Job at Frankensundae
My first job at 13 was in an ice cream parlor called Frankensundae in Meredith, New Hampshire.
True story.
The owner’s two sons towel-whipped me for my first training day. That business is long gone, and so is the pain.
I quit, ran home crying, and my Dad got me my next job at Hart’s Turkey Farm, a restaurant in Meredith, New Hampshire. It’s still operating, in case you’re in the neighborhood.
Gunstock Ski Area
As a kid, I had to work odd jobs to earn money: raking leaves, shoveling snow, chopping…
