Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Time was, I didn't know the meaning of risk. I can remember pulling up stakes from an increasingly comfortable situation in Chicago and moving to Boulder, CO with little more than an instinct that I needed to get away from the insanity of big-city life.

Did I have a job? Nope. Did I have prospects? Nope. I had a few cats, some meager possessions, and available credit on my Discover card. And I had the idea that no matter what happened, it couldn't be any worse than my situation was in Chicago.

Things have wound up pretty good in the intervening decade. While I've bounced around more than some, I've made more money year over year, I've landed in Nashville, got married, I've had steady work, I have a good life overall, and I really don't need for anything.

Except a willingness to risk.

Wow, what a subtle trap. And I walked right into it.

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