The only view to the outside world were two 1’x1’ wire reinforced windows in the twin doors at the far end of the production floor. The view was only of some asphalt and another wall lit by the ghoulish green glow of mercury-vapor bulbs. Despite the depressing nature of the scenery, around 1:30-2am every night I would look out and know that everyone I knew was tucked into bed. I was answering calls for machines that packaged CDs and DVDs, that’s how long ago it was. While I took joy for making money while others slept and sleeping while others toiled, I wasn’t happy. I was trading my dreams at the cost of 4, 12 hour days in a row for 4 days off. Truth I can see now is that I was running. I was running and hiding. 2008 saw the housing bubble burst immediately after I had purchased my home. The fear of financial ruin, of having to return to the hamster wheel of dealership life kept me running. All while hiding from my first big failure in life. I hid from the emotional toll that failure had on me. Looking back I was masking my heartbreak and wounded ego with anger and bitterness.
In 5th grade, Mrs. Young told our class a story about how a former student who once helped her fix her bike went on to become a mechanic. According to my her, I told my mother I was going to be a mechanic so I could help people. I probably said I was going to be a lot of things, but I did become a mechanic and I did my best to help people.