I have hinted this on here, but I'll be especially clear

I know all of my mutuals and followers are thinkers. Probably programmers, data science people, perhaps in finance or sitting in offices of some sort

I am not. I am a day laborer. I pick things up and put them down

Not all thinkers are of the same feather

I grew up middle class and tried Finance after school. Commuting 3 hours (each way) I earned my health, life, accident insurance licenses, as well as my series 7, 63, and 65 licenses, all within 60 days to stay on the team

I was working for a father of a friend and after he failed to adhere to our compensation agreement (costing me several tens of thousands of dollars of compensation) I decided to quit on agreeable terms. You know, to save face with my friends.

It's difficult to explain what happened after this. I went from a high-energy new york city finance position to working with my family (which was my plan all along) but this became troublesome as my mother was divorcing my father and my father decided to minimize his clientele--

--so that my mom would have the minimum claimable amount. When she asked for more years of taxes he told her he would kill himself, and enforced this with several bouts of alcohol poisoning. My mother (a caring and empathetic person) agreed and, so, got the short end of the stick

Working with my father and seeing this unfold I became deeply depressed. I couldn't work, not only because the clientele dried up, but because I was in deep emotional conflict about my parents. I jogged on the beach 7, 8, sometimes 12 miles a day. I listened to Asimov. I read.

I realized that my relationship with my father was toxic, and so I wished him the best, I requested he pursue his bliss but I would take no part in it, and quite literally as his second wife said "don't worry, your father will buy you dinner" I shut the door and walked away

I got an apartment and spent through all my savings. I had a lot saved up from my work but I spent all my time reading and jogging and playing hearthstone and chatting on boards and everything I could possibly do to exercise without deep contemplation

I spent all my money. I lost my car. I had to walk one mile to the local burrito spot in order to earn $10 an hour. I had worked on the upper east side of manhattan. I had two chandeliers, two fire places, a balcony, my neighbors had expensive dogs. I walked home in wet jeans

Eventually I started working at Costco. Now, I move heavy boxes 8 hours a day. I work 6 days a week, every week. My day off I spend resting. I listen to philosophers while my earbuds are hidden behind my face covering. I hunger for my own thoughts.

If you follow me, this is what you follow.

You follow the thoughts and replies of a hard-working man trying to get by. A man that pulled the muscle behind his left scapula but still works, breathing hard behind his surgical mask, wondering about haidt and neitzsche and popper

so the next time you're at costco, that might be me

To those that have read this brief and humble story of mine--I am grateful

I don't intend to paint any villains or heroes. These are all people struggling, and deserve their own empathy. It has taken me some time to grasp that, but I am grateful I have.

Thank you, friends.

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