After a furniture project finished ahead of schedule Monday, another one fell through entirely on Tuesday. Suddenly, my week was open. Being the end of the month, I didn’t like this freedom one bit; I wanted paid work. Bills were being billed. Savings needed saved. Roth’s needed Roth’d.
Inside this time affluence, two paths appeared:
Path A) Wallow in the uncertainty and ponder existentially about my career
Path B) Do something
In my past life, I could wallow with the best of ’em, pitying myself as I scanned the skies for pies instead of learning how to cook. Now, when adversity strikes, I work to own what’s mine to own, then I get on with it, trusting the answers will come when they’re supposed to. The big bossman seems to favor the industrious anyway, not the irresolute; thus, I chose Path B.
At the thrift shop, I found a 1940s walnut desk for $20, then refinished it. I learned how to fix veneer with paint. I washed my car. I vacuumed the house. And here, on a Friday morning, I feel pretty alright—no richer than I was Tuesday—but perhaps closer to the answers. Or not. If anything, I know I feel better. Because I did something.
To livin’ a life we love,
Ryan Fightmaster, MD
