I had recently dropped out of college due to depression, being stuck with some terrible roommates, and generally feeling like a dumbass failure. My dad hooked me up with a job working at a chemical plant, as he's an electrician and knows quite a few people in the industry.
So, for about four months I do physical labor like a dog in what is an entirely new industry to me. Honestly, I loved it. I loved the people I met, too; everything you have as a stereotypical construction worker/tradesman in your mind is both hilariously true and deceptively false. I met some brilliant minds while I worked there, who taught me a lot and were very supportive of my struggles. Despite the wonderful people, I did a ton of inane work because I was the greenest guy on site.
All the physical activity was great for my depression, but I was bored as hell. I'm a smart kid, knew I could do better, but just couldn't seem to cut it. The workers didn't feel much different; I got many lectures on how much more quickly I could pay back my debt if I just finished school. One day, I get to work at 5 AM, and it's pouring rain. We've done most of our outside work, so we're gonna work in the PLC room for the day. Except not me. I get sent outside, in the rain, to rearrange/reorganize big ass rolls of copper wire, which are heavy as shit. After about an hour of that, I call the foreman to see if I can talk to him.
I go into his office, and I ask if I can have the day off. He kind of just smiles at me, asking why as if he didn't already know. I tell him that I'm gonna go talk to an adviser at my college and see what I need to do to re-continue. He happily sends me out the door; part of me still suspects my dad told them to be extra hard on me until I cracked and went back to school, but I digress.
So I talk to my adviser and start the process. I get all the paperwork filled out, write my entire petition in two hours, turn it all in and go home. At home, I take some magic mushrooms, pop in a Tool CD (Aenima) and have the wildest, most self-discovering trip of my life. I know I made the right choice; my depression entirely dissolves. The next day, I ride into work a little late and quit. Nobody is sad to see me go, I get several firm handshakes and well-wishes. I felt bad about quitting without other notice, but I was virtually useless at that point in the job anyway; I felt like I was being kept on as a favor to my dad, and I didn't want to do any more inane bullshit like reorganizing wire reels in the rain. The time for physical labor was up, and most of the rest of the work required decent electrician skills.
Fast forward to today; I graduate this semester with a degree in Linguistics. I'm getting a TEFL certificate, packing my bags, and moving to Japan to teach English as soon as I graduate. I've learned some programming languages as well, and may pursue that path after I've taught for a while. I might also become a monk/rockstar after I've paid off my debt. Haven't quite decided. =D