“Life is just experience.” That’s my mantra. Let me tell you how it recently led me to ditch a cushy consulting job in Los Angeles for manual labor at a Midwestern furniture store—and why I’d do it all over again.
The Plan (That Didn’t Happen)
Back in February 2024, I landed a consulting job in LA after months of interviews. The HR team waited four whole months for me—they were patient angels. Consulting felt like the obvious choice: I’d loved my internships, loved the problem-solving, loved wearing blazers that made me look like I knew what I was doing.
Then one random day in May, I saw a WeChat post: “Salesperson needed at a furniture store. St. Louis.”
I applied on a whim. No company research, no LinkedIn stalking—just a Zoom call with a manager who said, “You’re hired.” Google told me St. Louis had crime rates higher than my college stress levels. My response? “Perfect.”
Why St. Louis? Let’s Rewind
When I was 15, I discovered a singer who quit architecture to busk in New Zealand. I immediately bought a guitar, declared I’d become a wandering artist, and… bombed spectacularly at my first street performance. Dad gently reminded me, “Our family doesn’t do art.”
Fast-forward to college: I took a stock trading class, poured my savings into Chinese A-shares, and lost money faster than I could say “bull market.” Dad sighed: “No one in our family makes money in stocks.”
These failures taught me something: I’m wired to chase discomfort. Stability makes me itchy.
The Midwest Experiment
By June 14, I was in St. Louis.
By June 17, I learned 60% of my “sales” job meant hauling furniture in a warehouse.
Week 1&2 Reality Check:
- Dropped 10 lbs (Mom calls this my “Midwest Weight Loss Bootcamp”)
- Selling goods need some passion
- Mastered the art of nodding when customers said, “I’ll think about it” (translation: “Never.”)
What Surprised Me:
- Wealthy clients haggling over $10 discounts taught me money ≠ class ≠ consumption habits
- Warehouse crews who joked about their sore backs taught me resilience ≠ résumés
- My manager’s chaotic spreadsheets taught me bad systems crush good intentions
Why I’m Leaving (And What Stays With Me)
I quit not because it was hard, I’ve worked three jobs in a heatwave before—but because I got what I came for:
- A Crash Course in Humanity
- Sales isn’t about pitching products. It’s reading the flicker in someone’s eyes when they actually need help.
- Manual labor isn’t “unskilled.” Try assembling a bookshelf while a customer complains about shipping delays.
- Clarity Through Chaos
- Startups fail when founders haven’t stocked shelves or faced a 2 AM inventory crisis.
- Good management isn’t about titles; it’s about knowing when to shut up and haul boxes with your team.
- Proof I Can Reinvent Myself
From consulting decks to discount tags, I’ve learned every job is just storytelling in different fonts.
What’s Next?
Honestly? No clue. But here’s what I do know:
- My future company will smell like coffee, not corporate perfume
- I’ll hire the warehouse worker who taught me forklift physics
- My dad will finally admit I’m good at something risky (even if it’s not stocks… yet)
To My Ride-or-Die Readers:
Thank you for sticking around while I figure this out. Next up: How to turn terrible jobs into career superpowers. Spoiler: It involves crying in break rooms and taking very detailed notes.
Stay messy,
Diffie
P.S. Mom, Dad—if you’re reading this, I will finish grad school… after I try one more weird job. Promise. 😉
I wrote this article on June 26, 2024. I quit that job on Thursday, then began searching for a new position on Friday. The following Monday, I had two interviews – and both companies made me offers! Now I’m working as an internal auditor at a trucking company. 🙂 Sometimes life just needs patience and a dash of courage.
A Wanderer’s Reflection 
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