I'll tell an Amish story then.
When I got out of grad school in '96, I couldn't find a job. I moved back home with my parents, worked at the same beach-side restaurant, and went to Kinkos once a week to fax out resumes for positions I found in the classifieda of big-city papers. Then the restaurant closed for the season and I still didn't have a real job...
My father had a side hustle in the winter making fishing lures. He used actual deer hair and cast his own lead. We would drive up to the Lancaster, PA area every couple of weeks to buy leftover tails from this Amish family that processed deer meat for the local hunters. But the tails still were connected to deer ###, and Pop would pay me 10 cents per tail to sit outside and use a hatchet to chop off any remaining flesh. After one particularly bad batch that actually had maggots on it, I saw fit to complain a little. Pop said, "Boy, that's why you need to buckle down and find a real job unless you wanted to be chopping deer ### for the rest of your life."