The lockdown pivot
Back in early 2020, I walked away from my HR gig, only to find myself living in my mom’s house, deep in a gaming-and-beer-can phase as the world shut down. I needed cash, and my mom definitely needed me out of her space. My brother had just started a landscaping business that landed a contract to mulch Canberra’s parks, and since I had experience "mowing the lawn once or twice," I got the job.
The reality check
I joined a crew that included a former plasterer and a rugby player. We were waking up at 5 a.m. to ride in a beat-up Toyota HiLux, spreading mulch and waiting for truckloads that took forever to arrive. It was lowkey chaotic; we spent half our time just lying on the grass because we were waiting for more mulch, confusing the hell out of random people walking by. We also dealt with broken equipment and heavy lifting that honestly felt like a total L.
The breaking point
Real talk: I was not built for the manual labor life. My back was giving out, my shoulders were constantly in pain, and I couldn't stop distracting the rest of the team. My brother and I were constantly clashing, and he finally laid it out for me: I was trash at mulching. He told me to quit, stop wasting time, and head back to university because I was too smart to spend my life raking mulch.
Why it matters
I was frustrated at the time, but he was right. I eventually moved to Melbourne for journalism, and it’s been a total vibe shift. Taking that messy landscaping job taught me that I need work that stimulates my brain, not just my muscles. It's a reminder that sometimes you have to fail at something completely random to figure out what you’re actually meant to do. Say less to that.
