The death of motivation

I'm a pretty impressionable guy. If I watch a movie about someone working hard, I quickly become motivated to work hard as well. If I watch a YouTube video about someone who reads a lot of books, I suddenly want to read a lot of books too. Even one TikTok about writing can inspire me to start writing again.

I realized this about myself a long time ago, so I began using it to my advantage. If I ever lack motivation or desire to do something I don’t necessarily want to do, all I need is to watch a movie about that activity or see someone doing it really well, and I’ll get motivated.

That’s pretty much how I’ve been managing my emotions at work. I’ve been working in a kitchen for about two years now, and although it’s been difficult, I’ve managed to keep myself excited enough to do a decent job.

Lately, however, things have been changing, mostly because of our cook, who’s become a real jerk to everyone. He yells, blames everyone but himself for any mistake, throws tantrums like a 12-year-old, and treats everyone like they’re idiots while acting like he’s the best.

This quickly led to a drop in motivation across the entire restaurant. No one wants to talk to him unless they have to, and it’s obvious that everyone’s just doing their job for the sake of doing it, not because they care. They stopped caring a long time ago because of this one guy.

And a few days ago, it finally happened to me too. I’ve been working in two positions in the kitchen for the past six months, without asking for a proper raise and without complaining. I saw it as a challenge, a way to improve myself. I was good at each position separately, but both? Well, someone had to do it, and I did it, every day, for a very long time.

I’m not going to tell you that I was perfect at it. I wasn’t. Working in two places is difficult, and it makes you prone to mistakes. And I made a lot of them. I forgot things, I made a few dishes incorrectly, and overall, I lacked the focus I had when I worked in one place. Basically, I had to multitask all the time, which completely ruins your ability to focus.

And although mistakes happened, the truth is that the restaurant itself is doing just fine. The owners get the same amount of work done without having to pay an extra person. Everybody should be happy.

But of course, arrogance, a miserable life, and the desire to constantly put himself above everyone else made this guy go nuts two days ago when a very stupid mistake happened. It was something small, something simple, and it wasn’t even my fault—it was his.

But his "excellency" couldn’t allow himself to be blamed for the mistake, so it all fell on me. I was blamed, yelled at, and made to look like an idiot. For what? For someone’s ego. Great.

Funny enough, another colleague who was just passing by became collateral damage and got yelled at for simply being in the kitchen.

And this isn’t the first time. It’s happened countless times. And with this last incident, my motivation to care about anything went out the window. Keeping everything sparkling clean? Not anymore—it doesn’t matter anyway. Making an extra effort to be in two places at once? What’s the point if one mistake means I’m terrible at my job? Trying to do everything perfectly? Ha, what a joke.

This is what I call the death of motivation. Or perhaps “murder” of motivation is more accurate. I no longer care. I no longer want to hold myself to a higher standard. I no longer give a damn about anything related to this place. And it took one moron to cause all of this.

So, I guess the moral of the story is this—if you’re in a position similar to this guy, stop. Nobody likes an arrogant person. Nobody likes someone who expects everything to be perfect while constantly overlooking their own mistakes. Nobody likes a person who talks crap about everyone all the time. And if you’re like this, you’ll end up like this guy—completely alone and surprised that nobody likes you.

If you’re in the same position as me—you’re entitled to feel outraged and fed up. Sometimes it’s just not worth it. Sometimes it’s better to stop caring. The “grind” mentality, where you constantly have to work on something, improve, and be the best, is overrated. Sometimes life, people, work—everything—just sucks, and it’s okay to hate it.