As I was returning to my desk after picking up some pretzel snacks in the kitchen, I saw my phone light up on the table. It was a quick email reply: “This is insane. Thank you so much for preparing this.” I let out a big sigh of relief. At this point, I’m in my third week at my new job and I’ve just completed my first presentation to other leaders in the company. I hadn’t been too sure of how I was settling in but I was starting to understand it now.
It was mostly a blur. I entered the office on February 9th, and as if instructed by a starting gun, it felt like I was already mid-race. No easing in. No training to find my footing. Each day collapsed into the next before I could fully process it. It felt like the same current I’ve been swimming against for most of my career but with a slight, albeit impactful, difference.
I moved to New York City about 14 years ago and I’ve spent most of it employed at the same restaurant group. What started as a simple job taking delivery orders over the phone quickly became a bookkeeping position. Before I knew it, I was a full-time accounting manager handling the books for four restaurants and I was the only finance personnel. I did not have any prior experience in this field—I went to film school—but I’ve always been a quick learner. The tasks were simple enough to start and doing accounting work freed me from creative exhaustion. I could pursue film photography, video editing, and writing at home and secure myself financially at work.
After a couple years, the business decided to enter into a rapid growth stage and scale up into more restaurants across the city. On the fly, I had to help them transition from basic bookkeeping in Excel sheets to utilizing a full-scale, multi-entity restaurant ERP system. With just a few years of working in the industry under my belt, I made some best guesses and it generally worked out fine. Once the new system was up and running, the organization hired a CFO. He made adjustments but was overall impressed with how much I accomplished on my own.
It felt like it was just a few blinks of the eye and all the sudden a decade had passed. The organization had grown to 11 restaurants and I was still the only true accounting personnel. The CFO stayed focused on financial strategy & planning but I was sole owner of the entire accounting function. I couldn’t begin to explain how it all happened. It felt like a fever dream. The speed at which the restaurant industry operates is not for the faint of the heart. It’s a true test of endurance, maybe especially so here in New York City. Everything I’ve come to know about finance has been through these rigorous, somewhat amorphous, years chasing one task after the other.
This is why it has always felt like I’ve been in a race. In order to survive, I just had to keep it all moving. I had just enough time to keep all the gears well-greased and operating but I had limited impact regarding the machine that was being built. It felt like standing on the line of a factory that never closed. A persistent conveyor built of things to process. If I stopped for even a minute, the pile of work would increase exponentially. It’s a testament to my skills that I was able to handle it for so long but it did come with its disadvantages.
The salary never seemed to keep up with the pace of the work. Vacation time was accruing but finding the right moment to utilize it never seemed to come. That meant fewer trips back home to visit family. It meant less time to recharge, mentally and emotionally. It meant being more standoffish to coworkers because I didn’t have time to chat. There was a running joke within the company that everyone was afraid of me. Either terrified to tell me of a mistake that would cause more work for me or too afraid to disrupt me and waste my time, everyone approached with caution.
In lieu of a salary raise a few years ago, I decided to take online courses to receive a bachelor’s degree in accounting. Finally it was time to put credentials behind this decade of on-the-job education. I could read the tea leaves: my time at this organization was going to be limited. There simply wasn’t a structure for me to grow any further. There was a tight leadership circle and it had no intentions of expanding. If I was going to be employable somewhere else, I had to take some action. It was a true sink or swim moment. For a long time I was able to keep swimming but the days where I could feel above water were getting fewer and farther between.
It took some time but I got my degree and started visualizing the possibilities for my next move. Last spring I submitted a written proposal to my boss to align my title & salary with market value. It didn’t quite go my way. He intimated what I already knew: I was capped out. I took that as a massive green light to start looking elsewhere. Perhaps for the first time since my career began, I wrote down everything I managed and accomplished over the last 12 years. Seeing it mapped out onto a single page resume was striking. I knew I would be competitive in the job market. Still, I felt comfortable enough where I wasn’t really in a rush. I just kept hoping the right thing would eventually come along and I would know it.
I had multiple interviews throughout the fall and received a few offers quite quickly. Nothing felt like that perfect match for awhile. But, right at the tail end of December, I had a couple interviews with another hospitality group. I instantly clicked with the VP of Finance and the CFO. So much so, I remember the interviews felt almost too relaxed, like I was chatting over a few drinks with close friends. At the end of the third interview round they indicated I was one of the final candidates.
I did not know much about their restaurants at the time but it was the first set of interviews I had where I did not have to overly explain my experience. It was understood and appreciated quite quickly. That went further for me personally than needing to know all the ins-and-outs of their business. There had been so many times in the past decade where people I had worked with for years would look at me and go: “I honestly have no idea what you do here.” Receiving this kind of instant acknowledgement in the interview process somehow undid years of feeling under appreciated in one fell swoop.
Ultimately, I made the decision to take the Senior Accounting Manager position they offered. I didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. They’re preparing to open a massive 3-concept project on Madison Ave and I would be put exclusively in charge of the pre-opening budget, while at the same time assisting the VP of Finance in tasks throughout the rest of the organization. It seemed daunting but I knew I had to take the chance.
Leaving after more than a decade with one employer was not a small task. I tried to give as much time as I could but there’s never quite enough time to transfer all the institutional knowledge of a tenured employee to someone else. Suddenly, the CFO had to quickly pivot and actually learn the accounting function of the business. It was striking to me just how much he didn’t know. Part of it felt respectful in that he trusted me to run this aspect of the business on my own but it was precisely because of this that much of my accomplishments went unnoticed.
The last days were full of mixed emotions. Most of the time was spent video recording and documenting processes. I don’t think I ever spoke that much in my entire life. My days would end with a hoarse voice and the feeling that I needed to lobotomize myself. It was exhausting but it did keep my mind off the looming anxiety of what was coming next. I had no idea how to prepare for this next step. And the step felt like a giant leap.
Before any anxiety could really take hold, the VP of Finance had sent me a thoughtfully written 0-90 day plan of how to bring me in, explaining what was mine to own, what wasn’t, and how the team would collaborate together. Reading this felt like I could stop running and finally take a breath. After so many years of building everything from scratch with no map, someone had handed me one. It was a simple gesture but it carried the weight of everything up to this point in my career. I had been searching for something that felt organized and collaborative and it essentially fell right into my lap.
Walking into the new office every day now fills me with a great sense of pride and belonging, which I didn’t think would be possible this quickly. The work ethic across the company is astonishing. Everyone works hard. Everyone works fast. The days go by quickly and not because we’re burdened by work we can’t get out of but because everyone is investing in growing it all together. Instead of feeling like a lonely fish swimming against the current on its own, it now feels like I’m in a school of fish, working together, leaving no one behind.
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