It's Good To Hate Your Job

It's good to hate your job. Why? Because the only two things you think about when you exit through the glass doors to the glorious parking lot is, one, how much your feet hurt after standing for an eight hour shift, and two, what you could be doing instead of serving salads, burgers, and cake.

It's also good to work a job that quickly becomes routine. Because as you drop a lemon into an ice tea glass for the one hundredth time that day, you can simultaneously think about where you could go next.

Like, say . . . Panama.

And then you could continue south through Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, and Argentina. And then you could loop back up until you get to Venezuela.

Or until you run out of money. Or get eaten by a llama. Or a monkey.

At least that is the plan for now. (To travel until my girlfriend from college and I run out of money. And to avoid monkeys.) We are currently working on setting dates and making concrete plans. But the dreams are tossed out there, and have already begun to take shape. We recently applied (and were accepted) to a non-profit organization in Panama that provides free housing and food, in exchange for working to conserve wild orchids. OK!?!

Nothing is set in ink yet, but stay tuned . . .