I have one.

Now I have the book.

Wholly cow.

This thing could not have come at a better time.

I needed it like a drink of cool clear water in a SoCal wild fire in a drought and a heat wave.

How so you ask?

Well.

You see.

I, like so many others…hate my job.

That’s right.

You heard me.

I hate my job.

I feel ashamed even saying that.

Because America and Capitalism.

But I do.

Not everything about it.

I’m a therpaist by training.

And I still see a few clients here and there.

And I completely LOVE IT.

It’s a tough gig at times.

But it’s is truly an honor to be afforded the sacred privilege of serving people in this way.

I absolutely LOVE being a therpaist.

It’s the work that I was born to do.

But the thing is.

It’s hard to support a family as a therpaist.

These types of “meaningful” jobs are often poorly compensated, particularly if the job description includes caring, and is associated with women, think nurse, teacher etc.

Therapist in private practice make a lot of money.

But I’m not in private practice.

I work in residential treatment for substance and mental health disorders.

And therapists in these types of roles, including community mental health or agency based care don’t tend to make cake.

And so, I (over time) have followed the money into an administrative management career path.

And it SUX.

At first it was MARVELOUS.

Dream job.

I love training new therapists, leading teams, designing programs, creating just culture.

All that.

And I’m not going to lie to y’all.

The money is good.

For the first time in my later adult life, I’m making enough money to support my family and live a basically comfortable life in Los Angeles.

Not enough to buy a home mind you.

Because Los Angeles.

But enough to pay the bills, get out of debt, save a little something, and even subscribe to Netflix without feeling like I’m sacrificing my future ability to feed and clothe my self and my wife in retirement.

But then, COVID-19 happened.

And the profit margins narrowed.

And the top down hostility flared.

And everybody became afraid for their jobs.

And the tensions mounted.

And the internecine office politics went psycho.

And the work environment became toxic.

And a lot of the good people left.

And it became increasingly hard to attract good new people to commute to work, and put their health at risk working in a residential milieu when they could make WAY more working remotely in the safety and comfort of their own homes.

And here we are.

From waking dream to living nightmare in a little over 365 days, just add one global epidemic (COVID-19