After thirteen years of slowly remodeling our house, we have finally moved to the phase where we sell it. It was never our plan to stay in this house that long yet here we are. Like Moses wandering the wilderness, we have now gazed upon the promised land.
My wife used to work for American Airlines and we would always fly standby. Since we were flying cheap to free we were expected to dress nice, behave, and generally not rock the boat. No problem.
However, we would always comment to each other on the poor customer service but assumed the staff acted the way they did since we were flying free and perhaps they had issues in the past with employees’ friends and family.
In 2015, I had the good pleasure to take a long-term stay at my grandparents’ place in Costa Rica. They live high in the mountains and there is a steep winding road to get up to their place. The scenery is beautiful and I would walk down the hill to the road and then back up every morning.
The air is amazing in the mountains, but the emission controls in the country are not. When I would pass a car coming up the road, I would choke on the fumes until they were long gone.
Last week, I wrote about choosing to leave my job in search of a soul-nourishing sabbatical. This week, I will tell you something that I find to be an odd by-product steaming from that decision.
When I was a teenager, a girlfriend told me about some people who every few years would sell everything they owned and go travel the world. I thought the idea was so absurd. Having to start over with everything, what kind of job would hire you with all the gaps in your resume. It didn’t seem like a good way to live, not setting down roots.
Recently, we were having a get-together with some family at our house. The adults were talking in the dining room while the kids played in one of the bedrooms. Then my son walks into the dining room, wearing one of my shirts, a pair of my shoes, and some sunglasses. Then he proceeded to make this weird voice pretending to be me.
For those that didn’t just stumble across my blog, there is a good chance you are on my newsletter. (Oh wait, shameless plug, if you aren’t on my newsletter, subscribe here!) On the subscribe page, and in my newsletter on several occasions, I mention if you wish to unsubscribe, you may do so at any time and with no hard feelings on my end.
I still stand by this statement but it was put to the test.
Today is my seven-year anniversary working for Home Zone Furniture. While I have loved all the places my career has taken me (maybe a few short-lived exceptions), Home Zone is tops.
Early in 2010, I was laid off from my job and began working at a call center. They were quickly promoting me to other departments and eyeing me for management after a month. I also had a side gig building a website for an Ad agency I used to work with (the previous job directed them to me).
When I was a little kid, we would go visit my grandparents in Costa Rica every so often. My mom would always bring my Grandpa gifts of cashews, black licorice, and animal-printed underwear. It was my understanding that during that time, these items were hard to find there.