I started this blog as a fresh-faced, idealistic 22-year-old. I had just started my dream job at Google and was doing my truck thing, living life my way. The sky was the limit. I had a full head of hair,¹ money rolling in, and aspirations to retire young. After six months of living this brave new life, precocious and optimistic at 23, I wrote a post titled Decimals And Dollars: Planning the Next Decade where I talked about financial independence and retiring early (FIRE).

It’s been a minute two and a half years. I left the truck and apparently I left the blog behind with it. Whoops! But the good news is that we’re fixing that right now.

Oh hey, thanks for asking. Not much has changed on my end, same old, same old: got married, my nonprofit excelled at not-profiting, did some start-up stuff, got some very cute animals, and eventually ended up back at A Big Tech Company. My “role of work” chart has aged well in that particular regard.

I spent the better part of six years with a very narrow idea of “home”. My literal home was the boxy, six-wheeled place I slept and stored my assorted garbage. My actual home was, well, anywhere else, as I’ve oh so dramatically written about before. I’d whittled away the utility of my primary shelter to little more than a literal shell, and it’s no secret that I was happy (and maybe even a bit proud) with that.

Hello! It’s been an eventful few weeks months: the job has been quit, the truck has been sold, the California has been left, and the new venture has been started (full-time!).

Selling the truck is probably the biggest and most blog-relevant event. Even though I’d already announced my plans to sell it, having legitimately sold it still feels different. One of those things that doesn’t really register until it’s actually happened. Truly the end of an era. In Marie Kondo-fashion, I thank the truck for its service and wish it the best in its new life.

A quick recap: I’m quitting my job and moving out of the truck/state of California.

As a person who doesn’t like having stuff they don’t need/use, I’m getting rid of the truck. More specifically, as a person who recognizes the utility of money, I’m selling the truck.