While driving down a major freeway the other day, on my way to the old job in an office I haven’t seen in a year, my car suddenly stopped.
Dead. Right there in the middle of major traffic.
Surely this was the sign I’ve been looking for in the past month, since trading Costa Rican paradise for a chaotic life in Calgary.
No more work. No more grind. Time to quit my job for good and pursue the dream, whatever that is.
The $600 repair bill swiftly brought me back to reality.
It seems it was a sign, only the opposite. The sign that I HAVE to go back to work to pay off the mechanic, and the myriad other bills that mounted while we cavorted around Costa Rica for a year, having the time of our lives.
During the past several weeks of post-mortem, another epiphany occurred: Real life sucks.
I guess I can’t really call it an epiphany. I think it’s something I’ve known all along, that I’m not cut out for ordinary suburban life.
In fact, reading back over my old blogs, this fact jumped off practically every post.
So if this point was, and is so obvious to everyone, including me, then why was I then, and now still living it?
I’ll get back to you.
First, the mechanic beckons. And then it’s off to work.