It took a year to summon the courage, but I finally quit my job.
This is not an anti-establishment story. There was no dramatic exit, no subversive monologue, no flipped tables or middle fingers. You’ll find no admonishment of the “rat-race,” only introspection; no contempt for the traditional 9-to-5, only wariness. The truth is, I learned so much during my time at IBM. I made great friendships. At the very least, Corporate America gave me options.
Nonetheless, two and a half years in tech left me burnt out, drained of inspiration, feeling strangled by routine. I grew tired of watching my twenties tick away between venti red eyes and email threads, promising myself that just two more months of savings would do the trick; that I’d make time for adventure soon. When I finally broke the news to my manager, it was not only met with support, but encouragement. He understood I needed to get away. He had long sensed my restlessness.
That’s not to say it wasn’t a great job. It was. The work was often challenging and engaging. My co-workers were friendly, my bosses humble and supportive. I had a flexible schedule and a six-figure salary. I was surrounded by brilliant, talented people. Had my younger self been told I’d be landing such a sweet gig right out of school, it would have certainly triggered an incredulous scoff.
And yet it wasn’t enough. I needed more variety, more uncertainty, a departure from full-time repetition. I wanted more time to focus on things that made my blood run quick. I wanted to pursue my own ideas, driven by passion instead of paychecks, fight my way past this growing fear of sharing what I create. Except I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know where I’d feel most inspired.
So I bought a school bus.
A 2002 Bluebird International. Five-thousand dollars for twenty-four feet of leaky windows, rusted chassis and faded yellow paint. Just a rattling tin can with a top speed of 65 mph. A blank metal canvas.
It won’t stay that way, of course. It’s going to be a tiny home, a mobile studio, and an adventure vehicle. The transformation has already begun, but there is a long, long way to go. I may have been somewhat enticed by curated Youtube videos and I’m certainly aware of my propensity for whimsical decisions, but for the first time in years, I’m unmoored and afraid. It’s thrilling.
Welcome to my blog. Over the next several months, I’ll be documenting the build process, sharing my music, my art and my thoughts. And, when the bus is complete, our ensuing adventures. I’m still unsure of exactly where I’ll go when that time comes, or in which direction I’ll choose to drive. In fact, I’m trying not to imagine the future too vividly; I cannot allow expectation to thwart experience — not anymore. My only plans are to go places and meet people and make things.
I hope you’ll follow along. ∎
(you can follow my Instagram here)
