“Hello, world” is the first application you write when learning a new programming language, and I thought it a fitting title for this post as I spin my life around to the opposite direction, pivoting from gainfully employed software engineer to homeless, jobless, wannabe world traveler/photographer.
This decision was really hard for me. I worked at one of those cool, tech companies downtown that has a kegerator and ping-pong table in the breakroom; the de facto dress code was jeans and a hoodie. I liked my coworkers, I loved writing code and was getting paid to do it.
Moreover, I worked my ass off to get there. I was not one of those kids in college that partied all the time yet still somehow got straight A’s - I lived in the library, survived on coffee, cigarettes to bate the stress. The main social interactions I'd have were held as study dates in coffeeshops, thank god Peter's a fucking nerd too.
Yet I was throwing it all away to become a glorified tourist. Because maybe it sounds entitled of me but I just couldn’t accept that the next forty years of my life would be spent in a desk chair. Sure, we had vacation days, but it never felt like enough. We'd fit too many countries into trips that felt way too short - we wanted to see the world, and it wasn’t going to happen on two weeks a year.
So we did it. Jobs quit, bags packed, locked and loaded. The days seemed to stretch out longer and longer the closer we got to leaving, but now that it’s here, it's hit us all at once. We have a laundry list of items left to do, two one-way tickets across the country, and a plane that leaves in four hours. I guess it's just weird knowing that once we leave, that's it - we don't have a place to go back to anymore. All that's left in Chicago is what's currently sitting in a 5x10 storage space, with room left over at that. Peter's about as close to a home as I've got, so it's a good thing he's up for whatever shitshow is inevitably going to come our way.
World, here we come.