REFLECTIONS
I’d rather clean the chicken coop than:
- Sit through your division “All Hands” Zoom meeting full of phony team cheerleading
- Analyze your customer data so that you can claim “I already knew that”
- Face un-ending delays so corporate legal can fret over my project with a fine-tooth comb
- Review your cheesy marcomm copy that you want to paste my name on as the by-line
- Refine your slide deck because you don’t have an ounce of creative graphics ability in your stale mind
- Mine your overnight email thread to try to determine what I actually need to know
- Sit on an airplane full of functional alcoholics in the first 15 rows to take part in your “critical” business meeting
- Walk your underqualified management hire through basic data charts they should have learned to interpret as a sophomore in college
- Cring every time you tell us to lean in, think outside the box, reach out, circle back or drill down.
When I clean the coop, my hens brrrrr with affection and approach me to be petted. They produce the most amazing, rich eggs. They say “thanks” in their own way, and they mean it. And I actually enjoy the work. I can see the end result of a fresh, clean coop and spend some time outdoors. My fruit trees enjoy the fertilizer. And I end my chores feeling fulfilled and refreshed, not half dead. Seriously. I’d rather shovel heaps of pine bedding and chicken shit for my grateful hens than spend another waking moment in corporate America.
Show the world you’re a member of the Egg Dealer Mafia by wearing this fun, retro t-shirt.
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KEY TAKAWAY
If you’ve reached the stage where you would rather do dirty, manual work than dial into the office, it’s time to let go of corporate life. Stop procrastinating and saying “one more year”. I’ve been to two funerals for the “one more year crowd”, folks on the cusp of retirement from corporate drudgery who decided to stick it out a few more months to save just a wee bit more and died trying. They never tapped into that 401k, didn’t experience the bliss of sleeping past 6:00 AM, and neither savored the sweet freefall of saying “f-it” and putting in their final notice. Don’t overstay your welcome in corporate America. Build your escape plan now.
I’ve been to two funerals for the “one more year crowd”, folks on the cusp of retirement who decided to stick it out a few more months to save a bit more and died trying.
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