First of all, I apologize for the delay in updates. I am clearly terrible at social media and consistency, even when the entire thing is of my own design. Also, sorry for the length of this one. It has been a hot minute, and apparently I have been busy blowing up and rebuilding my entire life.
The first domino to fall was the job. I had only been at Vallen a short time, but I was already feeling the pressure, losing sleep, and stressing about work when I wasn’t working. There were some pretty obvious signs early on that the culture and I were not going to be a long term match, including a manager accidentally forwarding me an email talking negatively about me within my first month. Nothing says “welcome to the team” quite like accidentally letting the new guy read what you really think of him.
About a week before I was scheduled to move back to Michigan, I talked to one of the very few people in my professional life whose advice I trust implicitly. Fifteen years ago, a conversation with this same person helped push me toward Nashville and changed the direction of my life. This time his sage advice consisted of the same question from 15 years prior, “You gonna use this as a reference?” Nope. I sure the hell wasn’t. So, much like a Band Aid, I tore that fucker off. I quit, packed up my life, and moved on. I have to admit, the most surprising part has been how good I feel about it. I expected some panic or buyer’s remorse. Instead, I have been more relaxed than I have been in a very long time. Apparently knowing I am not going back to the corporate hamster wheel has done wonders for my ability to sleep.
Then on July 25th, I sold the house. The next day I loaded a U Haul with all my shit, put the Bimmer on a trailer behind it, and pointed the whole ridiculous parade north toward Michigan.
Within the first week, the new owners painted the house like this.
I feel like I owe my old neighbors an apology. Apparently I did not sell a house. I released a paint experiment into the neighborhood.
Once I got to Michigan, I settled into a basement apartment at a friend’s house, which sounds substantially more tragic than it actually is. Much to my delight, I have a pretty damn solid group of friends who have helped make this whole experiment possible with a place to stay, a mailing address, support, encouragement, and general excitement about whatever the hell it is I am doing. To them, seriously, thank you.
Then it was time to buy the truck I will eventually use to haul my new home around the country. I call her Betty, or Betts. Total MadMen rip off I admit.
Yes. That is a Ram. I know. Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I have spent basically my entire adult life frothing at the mouth anytime someone considered buying a Chrysler product. For the most part, I remain committed to that position. They make garbage cars. But I bought a Ram dually diesel, and it hurt my heart a little at first. Unfortunately, after about three weeks of ownership, I have to admit that I really like the damn thing. It is like driving a freight train. After making a few modifications to, as my brother so eloquently put it, “wipe the old man off it,” it also looks a hell of a lot more like me. People have already started calling me out on the hypocrisy, so I am officially amending one of my core beliefs. Ram trucks are acceptable. Their cars are still junk. 🙂
Being back in Michigan has also reminded me how much I missed while I was gone. I have gotten to spend time with my brother again, attended an annual party that I had not been to in 15 years, and this weekend I am helping put a roof on my niece’s house. Do I know roofing? HELL NO. But I can carry shit, fetch shit, clean shit up, and perform bitch work at what I consider to be a professional level. The point is, I get to be there.
I did what I needed to do when I moved to Nashville 15 years ago, and I do not regret it. That move changed my life in a lot of good ways. But 15 years is still 15 years. People got older, kids grew up, things happened, and life kept moving whether I was there to see it or not. It is nice to be here again. Now somebody just needs to do something about the white shit that starts falling from the sky every year and ruins an otherwise wonderful part of the country.
Fortunately, I have a plan for that too. Technically, I guess I am now semi retired. Some people would call what I am doing LeanFIRE. I call it, “Let’s see how long I can pull this off without hating it, going broke, or becoming physically unable to do it.” I have applied for Obamacare. Thanks, Obama. My student loan payments are now income based, which works especially well when your current income is approximately jack shit, and I am planning to snowbird between Grand Rapids and Nashville for up to the next six years. Michigan when Michigan is beautiful. Tennessee when Michigan turns into the ice planet from Star Wars.
The next major piece is finding the fifth wheel that will become my full time home. The truck is ready, I am shopping now, and once I find the right one the real adventure starts. I am also figuring out what work looks like from here. During my MBA, I remember being very focused on teaching and passing along what I have learned to other people. A trusted friend once told me that if I truly wanted to teach, I should go to a community college because that is where I could actually help people. Since she is a lifelong academic, I figure she probably knew what the hell she was talking about. That is part of the current plan. I am not done working. I am just pretty sure I am done working like that.
It is scary to bet on yourself, but I believe I can make this work. I survived on a hell of a lot less for a hell of a lot longer when I was younger. Back then I called it being broke. Looking back, maybe it was training camp. Besides, a little hustle might be good for me. I was getting soft, figuratively and literally.
I promise to try and make these posts a little more consistent from here. I also promise that once the RV is procured, I will start doing video posts for anyone who wants to follow along while I get it ready and eventually start roaming around in it. I am absolutely positive there are going to be some stupidly funny moments, plenty of rants, and an impressive amount of colorful language.
Talk soon!
Q
Q is a semi domesticated carpetbagger, homeless meat popsicle, and professional overthinker with hopes of retiring before all his friends. Skilled in the witchcraft of not giving a damn about the Joneses and fueled by a did it or damn it mentality, he wanders around with Mazie Mae, his ever salty cat with strong opinions and a powerful addiction to chicken treats. Together, they have embarked on a quest they never knew started, to find something they did not know they were looking for, in a place they have not reached yet.
His thoughts are his own.
He is no role model.
Read at your own risk.
