The day I turned 24 was the start of one of the most un-steady years of my life. Not sad or bad, but unsteady. It turns out returning to the real world after traveling actually does suck. I successfully interviewed for, got, worked for a period of 2 days - 4 months, and quit, a total of about 12 jobs.
Now I know what you’re thinking. And in this economy? What’s wrong with you? I just couldn't take it. Why aren’t you allowed to start a job, work a trial period, and if it’s not the right fit you can just quit no harm no foul. But it's not like that. Maybe I’m lazy. Maybe my Gen-Z is showing.
Maybe, Maybe, I can do it on my own.
Beginning of September 2025
I quit my most long held job, not because I wasn’t enjoying it, but because the owner of the business said some un-appropriate things to two newly hired high school girls, while they were alone. My manager ended up reporting the comments, due to the age of the girls, and was promptly fired the next day. I chose to die on my moral hill of right and wrong, and quit. I could not stand to help make money for such a man.
Late September 2025
I have decided that I am done working for horrible people. I need to start my own business and escape this capitalistic hell. I am going to start a compost pickup service for residential dwellers. I design flyers, design a website, and spend a few days doing door to door sales for myself.
Door to Door Selling Notes:
Day 1: I hate Ring doorbells. No one answers the door. I changed neighborhoods in the afternoon and I felt much better.
Day 2: I didn’t knock on a single door. Too much fear. Left flyers at doors on townhomes. Drove around for 30 minutes before giving up for the day.
Day 3: Had 3 long conversations which went great. I felt positive and more confident. I listened to music in between houses to hype myself up.
Day 4: I give up.
I get a customer, one customer, and have decided that this customer will be treated like a king. Whatever they need, at no extra cost, I will give to them. The only issue is that, per my math, in order to be profitable, i.e. in order to bring the compost to the farm I want to work with, I need to have more than one customer. So I did what any person would do, and instead of dumping the compost when I picked it up, I collected it in the bed of our truck. And there it sat, in the bed of the truck, for four months.
I used the new year as an excuse to shut down the business, although it was technically profitable. The aftermath of which was that I had approximately 100 gallons of compost, in the bed of the truck. Now compost is a strong word here, because in order for it to BECOME compost it would need to be turned with other brown organic material, such as leaves and sawdust. No, what was in those buckets was pure food waste, rotting away with no air, day by day, for four months. I can not describe to you what the contents of those buckets smelled like when I finally got around to dumping them at a compost facility. Only that it would make you sick. And maybe you’d find it interesting that some of them smelled sweet, like fermented fine wine, and some would singe nose hairs. Each bucket had its own distinct unsavory smell.
January 2026
Every afternoon I fry a single sourdough discard pancake, then I mash an avocado with some lemon juice and salt. I tear the pancake into small pieces, lather it with the avocado spread, and savor every bite. All we have is right now. What comes later? In these moments I know, I love avocados.
I love my job. Rigid people walk into my class and they leave with laughter, vulnerability, and a shitty painting. It has made me a more creative person both at work and outside of work. I think of my childhood, standing in the playroom, commanding the attention of everyone, and I think that maybe this is what I am meant to do after all.
Stand on a stage, talk to people, have fun, make art, spread love. I am starting a second business. This one already is more successful (and less smelly) then the first. But I will wait to tell you about it.