Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I wonder if this is why people used to go on Sunday drives back in the day. To achieve this perfect sense of contentment from driving for the sake of it rather than to get somewhere.
Colin makes a right hand turn down yet another deserted road then surprises me by being the one to break the silence.
“Can I ask you something without you getting mad?”
I snort. “Are you sure you’re engaged? For having a wife and a fiancée, you know remarkably little about women.”
“Can I ask the question or not?”
“You can ask. But if it’s a jackass question, I make no promises about my resulting anger level.”
“Your job,” he says, glancing over at me briefly. “What is it?”
I look at him in surprise, both because he’s never really expressed much interest in anything about me, and also because it’s a pretty Google-able fact.
“I own a social media management company. Which is a fancy way of saying we implement Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram strategies for bigger companies.”
“And that’s profitable?”
“I’ll rephrase,” I say with a smile. “We implement Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram strategies for really big companies.”
It’s more than profitable. Some of our biggest clients, the behemoths of the retail world, see annual invoices from my company in the seven figures.
“And that’s what you wanted to do?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, as I remember it back when we got married, I needed a green card. You needed to get married in order to access your trust fund, which you told me was to start your own business, but you never mentioned any details. This is the business you envisioned?”
I think about it, trying to get back into the mental state of my twenty-one-year-old self. “You know, I don’t really know,” I admit. “I knew I wanted to start a company. I just loved the idea of it, all the more so because of the risk. The brainstorming, the planning, the securing of funds. Deciding when to bring on a team, how big the team should be. When to grow, how to grow, whether to invest in marketing or infrastructure first, and so on.”
“Did it meet expectations?”
I ponder this. “It did. And by the way, Grandpa, if we’re ever going to put you on the real road, you’re going to have to go above twenty miles per hour.”
We accelerate slightly. Very slightly. “You don’t sound sure.”
“That you’re driving too slow? Trust me. I’m sure.”
“No, about your company. About it meeting your expectations.”
“I do genuinely love it,” I say. “It was harder than I expected but more rewarding too.”
“Okay, here’s the line of questioning where you might get mad,” he says slowly.
“Bring it on.”
“When we were trying to figure out the logistics of this prenup arrangement, you didn’t really fight me on my suggestion that you move here, rather than me move to San Francisco.”
“Well, that’s the benefit of it being a social media management. Most of what we do is online. I can work remotely, and you can’t as easily.”
“True. But …”
“Okay, fine, I promise not to get mad,” I say. “Just spit out whatever you’re dancing around.”
“Fine,” he says. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you seem a bit bored.”
I look at him in surprise. “I do?”
He nods. “Not unhappy. But I’ve seen you at your laptop, listened to some of your work calls. I’ve seen you when you head off to your makeshift office in the mornings, and I often see you when you get home. You seem a bit indifferent. Content,” he adds. “But when it comes to your work, I don’t get the energy I’d expect from someone with your—”
“Zeal for life?” I supply.
“Sure.”
I turn my head and look out the window, thinking over his words, wondering if they’re true. I haven’t put all that much thought into my business lately, and that makes me realize Colin is right. I like my job, I’m proud of my company, but if I’m being really honest with myself, it doesn’t feel like much of a challenge anymore.
Yes, the company is still growing, but at a slower rate. Plus, we already have some of the biggest clients, so we’re already at the top of our industry. The options for innovation feel limited, the growth potential stunted.
Or maybe it’s just that I can’t see the innovation anymore.
Maybe it’s time for me to move on.
The second the thought crosses my mind I realize it’s been looming for months now. I’ve been trying to avoid it, but now that it’s out there, it’s not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. Or rather it is, but I like the fear. I like the little zip I feel in my stomach at the uncertainty of what might be next.
“You know for someone who’s so emotionally stunted, you’re quite introspective and wise,” I tell Colin.