NO DESTINATION YET @no.destination.yet ↗

A journal with no ending written yet.

I got really good at a life I didn't want.

So my dog and I left to find one I do.

A truck and tent at a coastal campsite beneath a wide evening sky
Somewhere near the beginning.

THE JOURNAL

ENTRY 001

Fuck It, We're Going.

I got really good at a life I hated.

I'm 39 years old. I've spent years building a career I'm objectively pretty fucking good at. I've worked on rockets. I've solved problems most people will never encounter. I've made good money.

And somewhere along the way, I realized I don't want this life.

So I'm leaving.

I don't have some beautiful plan for what comes next. I have some money saved, a truck, my dog Cooper, and a pretty strong suspicion that continuing to live a life I hate because I'm good at it would be a bigger mistake than walking away without knowing exactly where I'm going.

So that's it.

No grand plan. No destination yet.
I'm going to go see what happens.