Note: This post is part of a series that starts here.
After high school, I wanted to be a professional dog trainer so I enrolled in college to study the psychology of learning, animal science and animal behavior. I was working 30+ hours a week to pay my own tuition and after three semesters, I found myself tired, bored, frustrated and impatient with the required undergraduate curricula. I discovered that I wasn’t happy with the traditional education system, nor with burning the candle at both ends.
I dropped out of college and spent the next couple of years drifting from one minimum wage job to another, paying more attention to the boys I was dating than to my financial future. I ended up broke and alone after my fiancée and I broke up. I learned that I couldn’t count on Prince Charming to sweep me off of my feet and take care of me.
My parents were struggling to make ends meet, so I couldn’t go home and become a burden on them. I became more frugal: I abandoned my broken-down car, reduced my rent by sharing my one-bedroom apartment with three other women, and found free food during Happy Hour at the local bar (free appetizers with the purchase of a $2 draft). I learned to be resourceful and to do whatever it took to survive.
One night, while working the graveyard shift at a donut shop and pouring coffee for a homeless patron, I realized that I was one paycheck away from being homeless myself. That was my wakeup call. Motivated by fear of an uncertain future, I opened the Yellow Pages, called professional dog trainers and negotiated an unpaid apprenticeship. Less than a year later, I was hired by my mentor, and I loved the work. I learned the power of asking for what I want.
My mentor-employer was a great dog trainer but she made poor financial choices and lost her business. So I took two part-time jobs: one with a competing dog training school; the other as a veterinary hospital receptionist. One day, the office manager took me aside and said, “Jen, you have a smart mind and strong opinions. I realize that you have some good ideas about how this business could be improved, but you need to understand that you are not in charge here; the veterinarians are. You’re just an employee. You need to do things our way”. My response? I decided I wasn’t cut out to be “just” an employee.
…to be continued next in Part Three: My Twenties…
Did you miss Part One of this series? How I Became A Millionaire: Childhood