The worst jobs I've ever had
Buckle up, this is a rollercoaster
Hey friends,
As promised, today's post is about the worst jobs I've ever had.
I was hoping to get it out ahead of the first Lemonade Factory call yesterday, but actually ended up working on it during the call. Talk about a full-circle moment.
If you want to write with us, I’ve just added a 9.30am AWST Monday call, too (6.30pm Sunday PDT) as well. More deets here.
Alright, now back to regularly scheduled programming.
Part of the reason I was late writing this was because I had a deadline for a job I’ve quit at least five times already, and yet somehow keep going back to.
No matter how long I think writing articles for them is going to take, it always takes longer. You’d think I’d have learned by now, but apparently not.
The work should be easy enough, but somehow isn't.
The words twist and turn in the air before landing on the page, never quite seeming to fit. It's a puzzle to wrangle it into shape, to add the links and make the keywords flow.
But I still like that I get asked, again and again.
No matter how many times I quit, say no, or mess something up (I once had to rewrite a whole article because I misread the title), the door is still open.
It's good to feel appreciated. I mean, I do in my mentoring work and I do here, but as a travel writer, oof, that's a whole other thing.
Making long-term connections is hard. Even if you do, there's still no guarantee they'll last. The last load of pitches I've sent has fallen into the abyss, even with editors I know.
It's par for the course of being a freelancer, but it's hard not to find it dejecting, too. The landscape is shifting by the day, spearheaded by AI and diminishing attention spans.
I remember back when I first dreamt of being a travel writer. I imagined it would be all adventures and excitement.
The reality, though, isn't quite as fun or fulfilling. There’s a lot less travel and writing, and a lot more navigating silence and rejection, chasing invoices, and replying to emails.
15ish years in and I’m still not sure I’m cut out for it. But I'm not really cut out to be a good employee, either.
When I first arrived in Australia in 2019, I tried it and it backfired pretty spectacularly.
Back then, this was all only meant to be temporary. My goals were to:
Have some adventures
Make some money
Get back out on the road
And so, I found myself applying for jobs for the first time in a decade. One was a remote role for a travel company. The boss loved my resume and gushed over my experience.
I thought I was on for a winner.
After just a few days, though, she started calling me, screaming down the phone. Then she’d call me back and tell me she loved me and I was the best hire she ever made.
I liked the regular income and figured I'd had worse - like the time my old boss had made me hide money from some Russian mafia men who had stabbed a guy in the casino the night before - so I decided to ride it out.
Not long after, though, she fired me over some bullshit thing and started sending me death threats.
She said she was going to speak to immigration and get my visa revoked and make sure I fucked off out the country.
On a surface level, I knew she was all talk, but she still got in my head.
My self-worth went through the floor. I was full of anxiety and started having panic attacks. For years, I’d find myself spiralling every time I had to apply for a visa or got an email from immigration, imagining this would be the time everything crashing down.
Sometimes, that fear still comes creeping back in. Just like how I still feel the pain of being “fired” from the next job I applied for, for asking too many questions the day before I was due to start.
Honestly, I don't even know if that counts as a firing, but I was so excited and it sure knocked my (already low) confidence. It made me feel like I was a problem. Like I was too much. Like I'd never be enough.
Suddenly, navigating silence and rejection as a travel writer didn't sound so bad.
It's kind of ridiculous, though, that when I think back on the really bad job with the dodgy boss, and all the mess that had me sort of fearing for my life, that just feels like a funny story.
Getting fired, though? Gut punch.
Although I'm far from a psychologist - despite having two in my immediate family - I’m fascinated by psychology. Like why some experiences become internalised while others don’t.
As far as I understand, a lot of the time, it isn't necessarily the traumatic event itself that causes the trauma to lodge in the body and mind, but instead the memory of it and our response to it. Apparently, if we could just… shake things off, like animals, we’d be way less fucked up.
Fun fact: Some studies have shown playing tetris soon after a traumatic experience can help prevent PTSD.
With hindsight, it's easy to see why my experience working on the ill-fated Russian festival, KaZantip, felt different. Sure, there were moments of fear, like when the guys got stabbed at the casino, the island got raided by the cops, or people threatened to blow up the bridge.
But, no matter how ridiculous each day got, I’d end it at the bar with all my friends (the same one I used to go to to write my sex doll bios) laughing at the absurdity of it all.
By the time the mafia guy started stealing money from my sort-of boss, who was then making me hide money from him, I honestly just felt like I was in some kind of movie. Like, surely this couldn’t be real life.
Somehow, though, fuelled up on adrenaline, Cambodian coffee, and Red Bull, we managed to pull together a backup festival on a different remote tropical island in two days.
That felt like a win, even if my dodgy boss, who was playing with fire and should have known better, ended up getting double-knee-capped in a revenge attack.
Fortunately, me and my co-pilot for this whole chaotic mess managed to slip under the radar. It was surreal how everything just kind of diffused and we went right back to normal life - well, normal for Cambodia, anyway - wondering if it was just all a dream.
A very weird one.
I feel like I'm writing a lot about my old life at the moment, but it's just funny how much easier everything was there - even when it wasn't.
Sure, we had no running water or power half the time, but the stakes were lower, too. If I'd been there when I'd navigated the (other) boss from hell or the hiring-firing situations, they too would’ve probably ended up another funny story. A blip.
It was way easier to be a travel writer there, too. I didn't overthink anywhere near as much. Instead of sitting at my keyboard spiralling, I'd just go talk to someone about it.
Navigating this whole creative-life-business thing on your own is way harder. Especially in a new country, with no real support network (and someone threatening to get you deported).
As much as I love my friends and family, they don’t really get it, either. It’s like one of those “you have to be there” things.
This is why I'm building The Lemonade Factory as a place for creatives to come together to work on the things we want to work on, surrounded by people who do get it. People who will celebrate, commiserate, and cheer us on when things are going great, bad, or meh.
Because, to be honest, there isn't really any plain sailing when it comes to going in the direction of your dreams, whatever they may be. If it were easy, we'd probably be there already - and may even be searching for the next thing.
Also, speaking of sailing and dreams, Ed's race to Indonesia is going great, too. They've almost hit the 1000 nautical miles sailed mark and have 500 odd to go.
I hitchhiked my way onto another boat to wave them off last Saturday. It was so cool to be part of a flotilla cheering them on.
There's that word again. It's funny how once you see something somewhere, you can't stop seeing it everywhere, hey?
Anyway, that's enough from me. I wanna hear from you.
What's the worst job you've ever had? Hit reply or let me know in the comments.
And if not, I'll catch you next week - or in our Monday/Thursday calls. Feel free to drop me a DM if you wanna know more, too.
All my love,
Cxxx
PS: If you enjoy my work or my words, you can:
Join us in The Lemonade Factory.
Sign up for a 1:1 creative mentoring call where we can talk about all of this and more.
Support me by signing up for a free or paid subscription or buying me a coffee.
Like this post, leave a comment, and/or share it with a friend.
Follow me on Instagram.
So lovely to have my memory stoked! And to be connected over the trials and tribulations of writing. I haven't had the guts to take the freelance leap…yet!
And worst part of Rise had to be picking up a severed sex worker’s finger from the restaurant floor! Ah, Cambodia.