When I started my working life, it was at an investment bank in New York. The firm was housed in a beautiful building in downtown Manhattan overlooking the Hudson River with the Statue of Liberty in the distance.
On the executive floors, the mahogany-panelled hallways were dotted with artworks, Persian rugs covered the floor and there was even a humidor for cigars next to the leather wingback chairs.
For plebs like me, there was a gym in the building, excellent food in the canteen and use of the latest technology tools. I was living the dream.
Every morning began at 4.30am when I woke up, showered, made sure I was impeccably groomed and dressed – as expected in the industry – and began the daily commute. Usually, I caught the 5.45am train to ensure I made the ferry by 7am. I was at my desk by 7.15am and home around 8pm, at least in the first year.
The seven people in my department ranged in age from their early twenties, like me, to a grey-haired man in his early forties.
Continue Reading on The Irish Times
This preview shows approximately 15% of the article. Read the full story on the publisher's website to support quality journalism.