Words become sentences. Sentences become paragraphs. Paragraphs become posts. Posts become books. I produce books. That is what I do. I will produce them now until I die and let the market set a price for who I am and what I deliver

Reconciling the fact that I have worked sales for eleven years and have had so many jobs. I am consciously focusing on a new start and not adding this new opportunity to the previous nine. I started categorizing the positions

3 were bad beats.

4 were fair, we gave it a go and it just didn’t work

1 was I chose to go out on top and 1 the people were crazy and I was glad to tell them to get bent

The bad beats are the scarring ones. Those are jobs where the numbers were there and people just got rid of me

It is still hard to comprehend that I have done something so long and have a lousy track record. I am either the most stubborn person or the stupidest

Received the offer letter, background check, reference check and drug screen information this afternoon. Time me two hours to get everything together. Still waiting for response from two people I asked to fill out reference survey. Drug screen is friday. Glad to have things moving forward so I can travel to Phoenix next week. Going to tell my wife and daughter about the move. Looking up fun Phoenix facts to close the sale…

I really didn’t think I could ever leave Southern California. That this was life, my happiness was over and I just needed to make the best of a bad situation. I feel like I am blooming again. Like their is actually rebirth. Now that the experience is shifting from condemnation to rebirth I feel my souls hoping again. Southern California is moving to a slot in the last. I am thankful for the time but even more thankful it is ending

Just after graduating college in 1994 my best friend convinced me to work industrial construction in croydon utah. The cement plant was putting in a new sifter and they were recruiting a crew of locals. The job was 7am to 7pm seven days a week. The pay was $8.50 per hour then time and a half from 3pm to seven pm and on weekends. Up til then I only worked part time delivering pizzas for minimum wage and tips 10 to 20 hours per week. I had never worked construction and barely ever used tools.

The work was exhausting. I went home, ate, slept then turned around and did it again. The job was supposed to last a month. After three and a half weeks the foreman came into the trailer before work and announced the job was almost complete and the day would be the last. He thanked me for showing up every day (not to brag but I was the only local hand to make it everyday) and said he appreciated the effort. I cried when he said it was the end of the job. I cried because I was relieved. I cried because I was personally proud. And I cried because the foreman took the time to thank me for my effort (though probably not the quality of my work. My main skill was cleaning the cement mixer)

Exhilarated at the end of the job I headed to Ogden with my friend instead of returning to Evanston. We got pizza and talked about the joy of being finished. We had done what was asked of us and basked in the internal glow of relief. later I drove home, crawled into bed and slept a deep sleep.

The end of Southern California feels like that memory. Every moment since I accepted the job last Friday has shifted my perspective from just another job on the endless grind to a new beginning. Southern California and the nine sales jobs are croydon and the construction job. The ultimate spiritual foreman has said I am done. I can go have pizza and head home. I am so happy I could cry

How the move goes really depends on how my wife reacts to it. I suspect she will be excited and see it as a chance for her to start over. She hates Orange County and blames it for many of her problems. I worry she might see it as me abandoning them but more likely she will suck it up and move and couch it as her daughter needing her dad.

If she gets excited about it that is great. We may not live together or have a perfect relationship but one area she excels is researching and project management.

I need her excited because she will figure out the schools, the neighborhoods, even the houses. Her being on board and involved will make the process easier. She will work the moving aspect possibly.

When we left utah my energy was, “it breaks my heart but I have to leave there is just no way I can stay.” To this day nine years later my heart still hurts.

Leaving California, at least right now this is my energy, “I have really loved this place on so many levels. I have great memories that I treasure. but honestly, I am so thankful I am going to leave.”

And wyoming “I have seen more than enough. Time to get the fuck out of here!”

Six months after moving here my job went south. A new boss came in and I quit before they could fire me. At that time the smart play would have been to go back to utah. We still had the house. I could get a new job, regroup. Instead I took it as a challenge to stay. That is how I have always framed Southern California and Orange County. For better or worse I viewed it as a bucking bronco that I needed to beg and borrow to stay on. After nine years I resigned myself that I would continue the game until high school graduation. When the layoff happened last month the chain snapped. All of the sudden I was paroled. I could look at things differently. I didn’t need to stay. Relief washes over me. Telling my daughter and wife tonight will be hard. Change involves mixed emotions. But I feel relief. Whether right or wrong Phoenix feels like a gear lower. A place I can relax and find happiness. Rather than a screaming challenge that must be defeated.

There are certain times I really crave the old “unlock and scroll.” Mindlessly dripping into a flood of content. Lowering my energy. Tuning down. When I finish my exercise in the morning and when I first get out of the house and park. Granted that will change when I am back in the office but I marvel how the device is a security. Like sucking my thimb, chewing tobacco, drinking beer. Things I do to shut off my mind and be without internal dialogue. Or internal drive, pressure, guilt

Part of the allure of being the chaplain was the flexibility. I could do a good job (some would argue) putting in a solid 20 hours a week. I seldom thought about work when I wasn’t immediately doing it.

Operations are not so bad but ten hours a day is a little much.

I am a dilettante, I like to daydream. Dabble and let my mind wander. I like to write. I don’t feel like going back to being a chaplain but I want to solve the money, pay bills part of life. feel like me again.