
I worked for a fashion company once.
Young ladies (and some gents) would be recruited, thinking they had landed their dream job in fashion. The one they’d been imagining for who knows how long. It was time to “live their dream” (just like Rachel from Friends). They had finally made it; they believed their foot was in the door, only for reality to dawn on them, sometime in week one, that they had nothing to do with fashion, except soul-crushing Excel spreadsheets and the full-time pressure of getting reports out the door — no excuses.
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