Here I am drinking a green smoothie and listening to Radiohead. It’s 8:32AM. Our cat Pip sleeps curled up on the other computer chair in my office. He thinks he owns the place. Faint light breaks through last night’s storm clouds and peeks through the blinds. “You got some nerve, coming here,” says Thom.
Sarah’s gone to work. It’s her birthday, but she’s staring at another 12-hour workday. The last two months have been brutal for her. I sprinkle work throughout the day in between dashes of yardwork and errands and exercise. Working from home has only made the discrepancy between us more obvious.
I turned 31 this month, but July has been youthening. Read more...
It was a cold day in March. The feeble late-winter sun had sent crusts of snow retreating to the edges of things. I remember staring out my office window at a fly on the ledge. Gusting drafts buffeted the poor bugger as it struggled to hang on, its ephemeral wings flickered by a force that couldn’t touch me behind the industrial glass. It moved periodically in what seemed like an affirmation that it still held the spark of life.
I paused, sipped some green tea, and turned back to my monitors as a warm, dull ache suffused my organs. I wanted to laugh, but the shockingly obvious allegory had me closer to tears. Read more...
Friday is my last day at work. Beyond the obvious oncoming lifestyle changes there’s a feeling of renovation. There’s an internal change, too. One that reminds me of an old fixer-upper or a set of antique furniture painted and re-painted through the generations. You pull on your work jeans and boots, cast tarps about, and load in the tools. Then the anticipation – the apprehension – at what you’ll find beneath the old wallpaper and layers of paint.
What will I find? To what structure will life adhere without the typical work days and morning alarms and commutes. Rather than being anxious about this, I am elated at what feels like a move toward a more natural state for me. Read more...
Life is like a metaphysical Etch A Sketch. You can spin the knobs for only so long before you can’t see what you’re doing anymore. Sometimes you need to give it a good shake and start over. I gave notice at my job two weeks ago and my last day is one month away. How’s that for shaking things up? Read more...
In the course of any stint at a job, perhaps it’s rare to experience the ultimate test of your abilities, to face a reckoning so demanding and monumental that every possible accomplishment thereafter would pale in comparison. In this crucible, failing to recognize the moment as the act of summiting is forgivable. Failing to consider the implications after time has provided perspective, however, is not… Read more...
A hunter, oft-stubbled and bleary-eyed, driven by an insatiable hunger for exploration and experience - and perhaps a chance to thin the herd of caffeinated and alcoholic beverages. From the highlands and islands to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and the Borders, I explore Scotland with a pen in hand and a fire in the belly (which could be partly from the whisky). 
