Completed: Leave a job you hate

Image courtesy of Green farms.co.uk

Task number: 59.

Leave a job you hate.

Date: Summer 1996.

Location: Brookland, Kent, UK.

Attendees: About 10 other poor saps that were trying to make some money over the Summer holidays!

The One & only job I think I’ve ever left. I’ve always been pretty good with holding down jobs over the years. Even part-time Ones to help me get through college & University, but this was different.

We’ve all been there. Pot washing in kitchens, retail shop assistant, waiter, barman. I even had a spell, washing & sweeping up hair in a hair dressers. This was grim, but it couldn’t compare to the worst job I’ve ever had.

I was 14 & this was another One of those part-time gap fillers to bring in a little extra cash over the summer holidays. I grew up in the country, so agriculture was all around us & my step-dad worked at a local farm about 3 miles down the road from where we lived.

After he came home One day & said that there was some summer work going down the farm, I jumped at the chance. I had no idea what a potato grader was at the time, but it sounded like the perfect job.

All I had to do was stand at a conveyer belt & grade Potatoes. This basically meant sorting big from small, quality from rotten & Red from White. What could be simpler, I asked myself. The grader was also a mobile unit, so it meant that we would be working outside in the middle of the British summer – Perfect!

My step-dad warned me that this job is not as easy as you might think. Not because it was terribly difficult. In fact it was the complete opposite. It is the most mind numbing job you can possibly do.I remember my step-dads words before I went in for my first day “I’ll be surprised if you get through a week!”. I took this as a challenge & being a strong willed person, I was determined to way surpass this. After all, it was money in my pocket.

I knew I was going to struggle mid way through the first day. Potato after potato went past & although it is easy to offset the boredom by letting your mind drift, the sad realization that this is as good as it is going to get for the rest of the day is hard work. I started clock watching about 11 o’clock. 3 hours into the job it was not a good sign. But I’ll get through it I thought. It will be lunch-time soon. We broke for lunch at around 12.30. I think that was the longest hour & half I have ever experienced.

It was a scorching hot day, which didn’t help & by the time I had finished my shift I was exuasted. I had to get up & do this all again tomorrow. I wouldn’t have minded so much if the pay was alright, but to top it off I was working for what I think amounted to about 13 Pounds a day at the time. Jobs on the farm are rarely well paid, but I was going to stick this out. I had nothing else in the pipeline to make money & I was sure it couldn’t get any worse.

It did! The job stayed the same, but my mind didn’t. It was slowly beginning to break in the worst possible way. I don’t know if you can get repetitive strain disorder of the mind, but this was where I felt I was going. All I’d seen the night before was Potatoes & I could swear that clock was now going backwards.

The farmer would come round every so often to check that everything was going o.k. & being the new kid on the block, I was scrupulously watched. I had to ensure that my pace was consistent & that I didn’t miss anything when he was around. His money was on the line here & there was no way he was going to let me throw away anything that was potential profit. Switching from a daydream to total concentration is difficult believe me.

I got home on the second night feeling absolutely destroyed. My body was drained, as I’d been stood on my feet all day, but the thing that was most suffering was my mind. It felt like it had literally turned to mush. I couldn’t do it. I physically couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back there, where I was sure it would take just another 24 hours to finally break me.

I’m sure many of you will be reading this thinking it can’t be that bad. One of my favourite topics of conversation throughout adulthood has been peoples worst jobs & I have heard some horror stories. I remember reading a book Once that was title “Britain’s worst jobs”. I think number One was Seaman tester. I don’t think my experience was that bad, but I defy anybody to tell me that this is not up there.

The worst job I have ever had came to an end when I finally picked up the phone to the boss & told him I wouldn’t be coming in the next day. I didn’t tell him why, but I think he knew when he said “No problem, it’s not for everyone”.