And the Boss Don’t Mind Sometimes if You Act the Fool

My summer job is certainly not a “big” job as most would define it.  I don’t have a desk or a blackberry or an iPad or an expense account.  I no longer stay at the Four Seasons.  I’m not entrusted to spend millions of clients’ dollars on questionably effective advertising campaigns.   I make far from 6-figures a year.

And I’ve never been happier with where I work.

I am an integral part of a small team that makes and serves outstanding food to hungry people.   The work is hard and honest.  The food is lovingly prepared by sensitive, caring hands.  No one is plotting to subvert my career ambitions.  We help each other out.  Each person’s success depends on the others’ pulling their weight.   I have developed friendships with regular customers.   The view is amazing.

When I think about my “big” job and ask myself if I miss it or if I’m happy with my decision, the only answers I can come up with are “hell no” and “absolutely,” respectively.

I’m responsible for feeding people.  There are few jobs more important or “big” than that, are there?