Summer jobs and students go together like Jesters and Monday night. (If you haven’t come to the University of Southampton yet, Jesters is this indescribable gem of a club - I guarantee there is no other place on earth like it, and on Monday nights it’s crammed full of students and a little wild). However, often due to spending too much money in places like Jesters, summer jobs habitually become a necessity for most students. Sadly, due to the temporary nature of the job, you often end up working in places you wouldn’t initially choose, and believe me, it’s tough.
Right now I am sure a considerable amount of students will hold one of these precious summer jobs, and, despite it seeming horrible, I just wanted to say it will be worth it. I promise. Something good will come out of it!
However, if you think you have the worst job in the world, I don’t believe you – for I’ve been honoured with that role. Hurrah. Being the penniless student that I am, and living in a quiet town in the summer, I readily accepted work in a factory… Now, don’t judge me too quickly, I have had several jobs and I am definitely not work-shy, but this job is, most definitely, the hardest one I have ever had. Literally, I have never hated life more; my previous chipper demeanour is slowly being worn away. Previous jobs working in jolly shops or making coffee seem like heaven compared to this one. I now (temporarily) work in a fairly upmarket cereal production factory and spend my days lifting tubs of raisins and assorted fruit onto a conveyer belt.
It is a new low when dried apricots get the better of you.
Honestly, the people I work with are really so lovely, and much better people than I could ever be; my respect for them is enormous. It’s just, I am so, so, weak. Unbelievably so. Trust me, this realisation is depressing. Every day I feel like I have aged another twenty years; I start complaining about having a bad back and stiff joints, insisting that any evening activities happen at a sensible time, so I can be in bed by 10pm. Again, don’t judge me; I have to get up at 4.45am. Yep, that’s correct, that time does exist. I clearly wasn’t made for manual labour.
Now, before you all cry out in outrage, before you scream at me to leave (or man up), let me just say all this work is for a cause. And working for a cause is a lot easier than just working. Not only did I spent too much of my student loan on an assortment of fancy dress costumes and impulse buys at Sainsbury’s, I also committed to spend my summer travelling. In the forefront of my mind is the glorious time I intend to enjoy interrailing around Europe. So any time I suffer, slowly eroding my soul is worth it, really it is (I just need to keep reminding myself of that).
Now, before you all cry out in outrage, before you scream at me to leave (or man up), let me just say all this work is for a cause. And working for a cause is a lot easier than just working. Not only did I spent too much of my student loan on an assortment of fancy dress costumes and impulse buys at Sainsbury’s, I also committed to spend my summer travelling. In the forefront of my mind is the glorious time I intend to enjoy interrailing around Europe. So any time I suffer, slowly eroding my soul is worth it, really it is (I just need to keep reminding myself of that).
Every summer I go away for quite a long period of time; last year some friends and I went around South East Asia (my reward for all those early morning starts at Greggs). Travelling is something I adore, it helps me learn and grow like nothing else does. I cannot help but come back a better person once I’ve embraced another culture. I feel at my happiest whilst I am away, it is as simple as that. Yet, whilst this habit is extremely enjoyable, it is not cheap. Nonetheless, my memories and developing attitude cannot be given a monetary value; it is always, most definitely, worth it. And right now, when I’m young and carefree I cannot imagine a better time to do it. All the things I see and do help me, I learn from them all and they aid every aspect of my life, in more ways than I can explain.
Journeys like this last a life time. I would happily spend all my money for the rest of my life seeing the beauty of the world. It makes me feel incredibly lucky.
So, yes, my job is dire, but the thought of being cooped up in my tiny home town is even more terrifying. This hard work is collateral damage to get the glory of seeing a bit more of the world, and to me it seems to be a fair, if tough, exchange. In life you won’t remember those summer days spent wandering aimlessly around your neighbourhood, but you will remember that summer you got lost in Rome and fell in love in Prague.
And, if all else fails, I will remember my dear mother’s motto: it is character building.
Florence
