Six and a half years ago, I overcame my discomfort with the idea of commuting into the city.

March 26th, 2014, 8am

It was 1.2°C. There was moderate breeze.

For twenty years, I had worked within ten miles of home, often much closer than that. For almost all of that time, I worked for a large, well known, even legendary company. I had a lot of free time to pursue my outside interests. My commute was pleasant and brief. The only problem was that I grew to hate my job. The cognitive dissonance between knowing how to best do my job and the way the company proscribed the way I needed to work was disorienting. I was depressed.

When the company merged with another company in another country, I saw the writing on the wall. I started setting money aside to cushion the inevitable parting, and when it ultimately came nine months after the merger, I thanked my boss for letting me go. And when someone extended a lifeline that would have allowed me to stay and continue working a job I hated, I dropped it and swam for shore instead.

Louie said thanks.

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Ralph Brandi

50-nothing web developer, photographer, shortwave radio enthusiast, and punk rocker

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