A friend said: “Why don’t you drive a truck?” I went to CDL school in Virginia. A grant covered about seventy-five percent of it. Then six years. Sunrises in Wyoming. Blizzards in Montana. Forty-eight states.
No employees. No emergencies that belonged to anyone but me. Predictable income. It was one of the best decisions of my life.
It ended in about eight seconds. I slipped unloading a trailer and shattered my wrist. Two years in assisted living followed. Clarity is a strange gift. It often shows up after you cannot do the job that was keeping you level.
This chapter is part of Failure Is Always an Option. The full book is still a free PDF, and the voice-over still plays on the book page: the book page