The worst was that I had started to hate going to work.
Every day I got up, put on a suit, patted Gracie, my beautiful Ibizan Hound, on the head, and drove my eight-year old Nissan Altima to our little building.
Once there, I taught my Sales Magnetism class to a group of local entrepreneurs. The students were very nice and engaged but, by this time, I’d taught that same class at least 40 times and I was bored out of my skull.
I’m not the kind of person that does repetitive tasks well. At all. I truly hate it.
So, here I was doing a job I hated and making almost no money doing it.
It was so bad I often fantasized about getting my corporate job back. In the back of my mind I knew there was no way I could go back to the politics and bullsh*t of the giant insurance company I had worked for. But the thought of a steady paycheck was so seductive, I almost called my old boss.