Trent from Simple Dollar recently talked about his worst job and it got me thinking about my worst job and what I learned from it.

My worst job wasn't that hard to remember as I worked it for 1 day and then went in the next day and quit.

I believe I was just out of high school, maybe 18 or 19 and looking for a summer job. On the other side of town was a good paying job at the small magazine distribution center. It was my job to get the magazine organized for the different stores as the drivers would take them out for the day.

It was a simple job: take magazines off the pallet, organize into stacks, grab proper number of magazines from each pile for each store, hang out with people my age and I got to wear jeans and a t-shirt because the job was dirty.

However, as the day wore on I disliked the job more and more, not because of the manual labor or people I worked with but I started to feel dirty, but not because of my outward appearance but my heart and soul felt dirty.

The stores that we organized magazines for weren't just the local gas stations and retail stores but for the lone adult book store as well, and over the course of the work day it got harder and harder to look at the front covers of the porn magazines. Unlike in gas stations where you may see an adult magazine and have only the title showing, the adult book store received their magazines without any 'modesty covers' and I was able to see the complete picture along with all the subtitles as well.

I made comments to some of the other co-workers and they joked around with me about it and mentioned that I would get used to them and it wouldn't bother me as much. But by the end of the day my stomach was upset and frankly I didn't want to "get used to them".

That night I spoke with my parents about it and they seemed to concur with my plan to quit. This was one of my first adult decisions and I was both excited and scared, even though I felt I was going to be making the proper decision. The next morning I walked into my boss' office before work was to get started and let him know how I felt and that I couldn't work with the adult magazines around. I still remember his facial reaction; even though he was sorry to see me go and was glad I came to him instead of just not showing up, his face, however, showed surprise and confusion, almost like he didn't understand how a magazine could affect someone in that way.

That day I left the job a little more grown-up because I understood myself and those around me better.

My decision to leave my job made me realize that by leaving them in the lurch with one person down, I saw how much impact one person can have on a business. Plus there was probably the confusion from the other co-workers about how a magazine could affect someone so much they would quit a job.

My decision to leave also helped me understand what things I wouldn't do for the almighty dollar. I had found a limitation that I wouldn't personally cross just for the money. However, since that time I have pulled diapers out of clogged toilets and helped a stranger, who was a hoarder, move into another home and some people would never do that for any price.

I didn't have another job lined up after I left that one, but at the time I felt that having no money coming in was better than one that made me feel icky every time I went into work. As much as I wanted get as much money as I could, there were limits to what I would be willing to do to get it.