Work ethic humor

I got my first job when I was 17. My friend helped me get a job as a dishwasher in the restaurant he worked in. I actually lied on my application and said I was 18 so I could work nights since the labor laws wouldn’t allow 17 year old’s to work past 9:00 pm. I started off my work history great. I worked hard at this job and I got promoted to cook but I quit after 3 months. That was the first job in a string of low paying entry level jobs that I worked at over a period of the next two years. The list includes more restaurants, department store jobs, gas stations, warehouse work, driving, factories, silk-screening, steam carpet cleaning, security guard and a few others. I never made more than $3.00 an hour at any of them and none of them lasted more than three months. I had about 17 or 18 different jobs until I was 19 and I started getting sick.
I went into my first psyche ward at age 19 1/2 and I was there for a week and a half. From there I went directly into Soteria House, a world famous experimental house for schizophrenics. They didn’t believe in medication or trained staff. I was horribly psychotic and going through hell literally non-stop. No relief from symptoms. No signs that I would ever get better. The house was located in a large city right off of a main street and close to downtown. Well the first week I was there I got up early one morning and put on some nice clothes and went up and down that main street and went business to business and put in a job application at about 7 or 8 stores or shops. This came naturally to me. This is what I always did when I was that age And I actually got a call back from two places with job offers. One was the Salvation Army store and the other was a downtown donuts shop. I chose the donuts shop, I don’t remember why. But I started working there. I worked there for two days and did OK until my parents discovered I was working. At first they were incredulous and thought it was funny that even though I was sick and psychotic I had gone out on my own with no encouragement and got a job. I credited it to a strong work ethic that I had inherited from my dad. But my parents told me, “Nick you don’t have to work, just concentrate on getting better at the house”. So after three days there I quit.
I went back to the donuts shop to get my first and final paycheck. The manager didn’t want to pay me my wages because of tax purposes so instead he gave me three boxes of doughnuts, lol. I took the doughnuts home and set them on the kitchen table and the damn counselors ate all of them.This was 1980. I didn’t work again until 1983 and I have been working steadily since, symptoms be damned.


Yep. Symptoms be damned.