I was 18, I got my first job at Food 4 Less stocking produce. I had that sparkle in my eye, a go-to attitude and a strong desire to make a good impression and show them I could do anything they asked!
So young, so naive. Anyway I'm working as fast as I can and my manager tells me to go faster, Steve can stack these apples in 5 minutes but I've been at it 15 minutes. This stack is crooked, put them back in the cart and redo it. I didn't mind, I was disappointed that I had done a poor job even though I thought I had done really well. I'll do better! I thought, but it was never fast enough, or neat enough, and after two weeks of putting in 150% I just couldn't keep it up. I was ragged and frazzled, on the verge of tears.
After a particularly rough day I went up to my manager, who was this middle-aged woman that looked like she survived solely on cigarettes for sustenance, and I let her know I wanted to put in my 2 weeks. She scoffed and gave me this speech about how work isn't supposed to be easy and you're not supposed to enjoy it, but you do it because you have to. This only cemented the fact that I did not belong here. So I quit.
Later I got a job in Yosemite National Park. Second job, and I was only supposed to stay there for the summer and go back to college. I ended up staying there for 3 years, leaving for a year or two to finish college, then I went back to Yosemite.
I've been here for about 15 years, it's paradise. Pretty much free rent, no need for a car, everyone is super chill and friendly, and I certainly enjoy being here.