When I left my career, or should I say my career left me I had to find a way to make money. Initially, I thought I could build a beard care brand that would sustain a basic living. I developed different concoctions and fragrances unique to my brand. Created packaging and labels. I even had a photo shoot for the website. Well, after I spent all my savings, a very small inheritance, and my unemployment ran out I was broke. My brand wasn’t enough. I believed in my brand, Bearified, but the supplemental income was not enough to cover my expenses what-so-ever. I had to find a way to make money.
Sigh, I tried one last time to find a job within my career. It felt promising and during the interview I was told by the hiring manager that any of my shortcomings could be remedied by some additional training. That was a lie. I was turned down for not having the skillset for the job. I wasn’t devastated by this news, but it was a reminder of how many liars are in the corporate world. I’m not good with lies and choose not to tell lies.
BUT YOU WRITE FICTION?! You must be asking yourself, well my fiction is not one-hundred percent fiction. I gave the main character the first thirty years of my life and the rest are my fantasies. My reality is that I started waiting tables, again. I used to wait tables through college. I worked for Macaroni Grill all throughout college and a little bit afterwards. It paid the bills and I knew that I could do it again if I needed. My resume was lacking a big break in the service industry, so I had to start somewhere.
That somewhere was Lunchbox Laboratory in Greenlake. I landed the job and started training. The job was a job. I went from managing two-hundred million dollar media accounts to selling burgers in shakes. All in the name of my art! I would commute forty-five minutes each way. I really did enjoy the commute because that was undisturbed writing time. I was able to focus on my passion while riding on buses and trains before slinging tater tots, fries, and overpriced burgers.
Since then, I’ve worked at a bar. An Italian restaurant that closed down, and I’ve been selling seafood down at the waterfront. I haven’t cared for any of these jobs because I have no passion for the product, just the pennies. I know so many other artists have the same struggles, so this is not a complaint. Just an explanation of my journey. Currently, I’m looking into another job opportunity that will get me out of the service industry and away from anything corporate. Ironically, I rely on corporate companies to get my book made and published, but I’m tired of working for older white men. Today, I’ll be waiting tables and patiently waiting for readers to discover my book series.
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