What 27 Years of Work Has Taught Me

Today marks a quiet milestone for me.

Twenty seven years ago I started my first full time job in accounting. I was young, nervous, living in a new town with my boyfriend and wondering what on earth I had done.

I knew absolutely nothing. Truly.

I just knew I needed a job, not in Melbourne, and this one gave me a chance.

Now here I am, 27 years later. Different town. Different firm. Same profession.

In a world where people change jobs every few years, that probably sounds strange. I’m not a partner. I’m not climbing a corporate ladder. I’m simply someone who has stayed in the work.

For a long time I wondered what that said about me.

Was I loyal? Was I boring? Or was I simply too scared to leave the safety of a steady job? The truth is probably a little of all three.

But over time I’ve realised something else.

Longevity teaches you things that short seasons never will.

And one of those things is learning what you no longer tolerate.

Which feels fitting, because St Patrick’s Day is often associated with the story of driving the snakes out of Ireland.

Whether the story is literal or symbolic, the message still holds.

Sometimes life gets better not by adding more, but by removing the things that drain us.

A very real fear of snakes

If we’re being honest, the idea of driving the snakes out of somewhere sounds pretty good to me.

I have an entirely irrational fear of them.

It probably started when I was a kid in the chook yard. I remember standing there when Dad suddenly sprinted from the wood heap straight back toward the house. That alone was enough to make me nervous.

Turns out there was a snake moving through the backyard in my direction.

Since then I’ve had more than enough encounters to confirm one thing.

I don’t like them. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

So the St Patrick’s Day story about driving the snakes out has always made sense to me.

Because sometimes the best thing you can do in life is remove the things that make your heart race in all the wrong ways.

And no, before anyone asks, I don’t do reptile shows. I have a 6th sense for them and walk the other way.

The quiet wisdom of staying

These days there is a lot of talk about reinvention.

New careers. New identities. New directions.

And sometimes those things are absolutely necessary.

But there is also something deeply valuable about staying.

When you stay in something long enough you begin to see the patterns. The cycles. The seasons.

You see how problems repeat themselves.

You also see what actually matters.

After nearly three decades working in accounting firms, I can tell you that the technical work changes. The software changes. The rules change. But the human side rarely does.

People still want clarity.
They want reassurance.
They want someone who knows what they’re doing.

And when you’ve been around long enough, you stop trying to prove yourself.

You simply do the work.

That kind of quiet confidence only comes with time.

The “snakes” I’ve learned to remove

If St Patrick’s Day is about clearing out the snakes, then experience has definitely helped me do a little of that in my own life.

Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just quietly.

Here are a few things I simply don’t tolerate anymore.

False urgency

Not everything is an emergency.

In accounting there are real deadlines. Tax returns, BAS statements and compliance work have their place.

But a lot of modern work culture runs on panic that isn’t actually necessary.

Everything becomes urgent.
Everything becomes stressful.
Everything must be done immediately.

I’ve learned that most things can wait an hour. Sometimes even a day.

Calm work is better work.

Energy drains

You also learn to recognise where your energy goes.

Some tasks give you energy. Others quietly drain it.

The same is true with people, environments and even the information we consume.

These days I pay attention to that.

Protecting your energy isn’t selfish.

It’s practical.

You simply cannot give your best if you are constantly running on empty.

Performative expectations

One of the strangest parts of modern life is the expectation that everything must be visible.

You must show what you’re doing.
Post what you’re creating.
Explain what you’re building.

But a lot of meaningful work happens quietly.

This blog you are reading now started as a simple weekly habit.

My handmade button business started as a creative outlet at my craft desk.

Even my skincare journey began as a personal decision to take better care of myself.

None of those things needed a performance.

They simply needed consistency.

These days I’m comfortable letting some things grow quietly.

What this means beyond work

The interesting thing about learning these lessons at work is that they slowly spill into the rest of your life.

You start protecting your time.

You start saying no to things that don’t align.

You start choosing routines that support you rather than exhaust you.

For me that looks like simple anchors in my week.

A walk.
Writing these blog posts.
Time at my craft desk making buttons.

Small things, but they create balance.

The funny part is that those quiet routines now support both sides of my life. My creative business and my skincare work both grew from those simple habits.

Nothing dramatic. Just steady.

A St Patrick’s Day thought

If you’re feeling overwhelmed at the moment, maybe the answer isn’t adding more to your life.

Maybe it’s removing something.

One expectation. One habit. One unnecessary pressure.

Sometimes that’s all it takes.

St Patrick’s Day might be known for green outfits and shamrocks, but the deeper idea is actually quite practical.

Clear out the snakes.

Life gets lighter when you do.

And if my 27 years in the same profession has taught me anything, it’s this.

You don’t need constant reinvention to build a meaningful life.

Sometimes steady is enough.

Sometimes steady is actually the strength.