Pokémon, Burnout & Me: How I Lost My “Dream Job” in Four Months

Once upon a time (well, about a year ago), I thought I’d landed my dream job: working for a company that sold Pokémon TCG cards and some Japanese merch. For the kid who was told “Pokémon are stupid / just for kids / a waste of time for someone intelligent like you”… this felt like the ultimate victory lap. Look at me now: an adult (or at least someone who passes for one) who understands Pokémon and gets paid for it.

Leveling Up

I started out as a humble picker and packer in the warehouse. The company was a startup growing faster than a Gyarados on rare candy, which meant adjusting to a new system, a new procedure, or a new boss’s “vision” pretty much every other week. But I was happy. I loved it — even when I was exhausted, even when I stayed late because the PPL driver picking up our packages was behind schedule.

It didn’t take long for my boss to realize that I had a knack for the goods: I could tell the difference between boosters, elite trainer boxes, or which items were collector-perfect versus just slightly damaged. So, they promoted me — very quickly — to junior product manager, with an added role in customer communication (you know, the one who answers your angry e-mail when your delivery goes MIA).

Customer care? I crushed it. Junior product manager? Well… let’s say it was a little too much responsibility for a “junior.”

A Clue in the Cards

Another thing that made this job unique: my boss and his son were both diagnosed ADHD. At the time, I wasn’t — but I’d been suspecting it for a while, thanks to bingeing videos from Jessica McCabe and Alex Partridge. When the boss’s son casually referred to me as “the lady with ADHD,” it planted a seed: Maybe it’s time I get assessed.

And oh boy, the clues were there. Like the time I was working out prices — converting from Euros to Czech crowns, adding VAT, then factoring in profit while staying competitive — when a colleague interrupted me. First, I was enraged (flow state: shattered). Then I just blurted out, “Wait a minute!” and made her stand there until I finished. Some colleagues got it. Others didn’t.

The Rot in the Warehouse

But here’s the part I could not figure out: why were people leaving?

Every other week, it seemed like someone else was gone — warehouse staff, the office lady, even the warehouse manager. In just four months, I stopped counting after the tenth person quit or got fired. I didn’t even bother learning the names of new hires. Why? They’d be gone within a week anyway.

Catching the Real Sickness

Then came November. Cold, flu season. Naturally, I caught it. My doctor gave me meds and told me to rest.

As I was lying in bed, half-dead and feverish, I couldn’t stop thinking about work — about the company, my role, my life. My boss asked me to take my laptop home so I could at least do some work remotely. At first, I thought I could manage it. But when I opened the laptop, I suddenly felt dizzy, nauseous, heart pounding, tears streaming down my face.

That’s when I realized: I was on the edge of burnout.

The Monday Morning Plot Twist

I went back to my doctor and told her how I felt. She extended my medical leave for another week. I called my boss:

“I’ll be back Monday, but I need to talk about my role. Maybe I’m not cut out for the junior manager part.”

Monday morning came. I arrived early (Mondays were always packed with weekend orders). The boss wasn’t there — nothing unusual. But my work laptop? Gone. My account on the work phone? Deleted.

There was just one warehouse picker, who knew nothing about it. We called the boss.

His sleepy voice (ADHD + early mornings, a classic combo) said:

“Oh, you told me last week you wanted to quit. So, you can leave the phone and keys, grab your stuff, and go. We’ll send you the papers later.”

I was stunned.

What part of “I want to talk about my role” translates to “I quit”?

Game Over… Or Respawn?

So, I packed my things, cried a bit… and weirdly, felt a little relieved.

Sure, it’s been tough since then — finding a new job hasn’t exactly been easy — but honestly? Who wants to stay in a job that drains your soul in four months flat? Something in that company was strange, maybe even toxic. But I didn’t stay long enough to figure it out.

After that, I finally told my GP about my ADHD suspicions. She referred me to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist referred me to a clinical psychologist.

And that’s how I finally got my diagnosis.

That’s also how this blog started.

I’m the kind of person who always needs to look forward, to turn something awful into something useful. From this mess, I got answers. I got medication. I got stronger.

And now I’m here, writing Glitches & Glory in English (even if I’m not a native speaker).

The rest? Well… that’s still loading. Another job. Maybe even another dream job — this time one that actually fits me.

And I do believe it’s out there.