I’m in a new place, starting over… again. My history is turbulent. Maybe when I’m too old to do anything else, I’ll write a book about it. One thing that has remained constant (for most of my adult life anyway) is woodworking.
I realized what I wanted to do with my life when I was in my mid 20s. I’ve been chasing that dream since. The everyday necessities of life require steady income, so I worked and worked. When I was almost 30, I dropped out of the rat race for good. Half of the reason for that was the economic crash. The other half was the realization that I was getting nowhere. I got my contractors license and went to work for myself.
You could say that I had a pretty good go at it. I got by, and made a lot of folks happy with the work that I did. But on the back side of it, I have nothing. I know why my business was not more successful, but that’s a topic for another post. My plan was to stack up some cash and eventually be able to go full time woodworking.
Suddenly I’m single again, and living in a new place. My daughter is grown now and married. I have no responsibilities except to myself. I’ve been battling depression just recently, but I have a new hope. And my way is clear.
I’m hanging up my remodeling hat, and I’m building a workbench.
A knockdown version… in case change hits me again.