Kickstanding the Bicycle for a Bit...

I could not have stumbled upon a bigger hint from the universe.

Most days I walk by a house with a nice porch, and on nice days, there's a freelancer guy perched on it. Okay, maybe he's not a freelancer, but clearly this is a dude who works on his own terms: he's got the skype headset on, the laptop fired up, and usually waves cheerily (if somewhat busily and haggardly) from his porchy perch, in between yammering at 900 miles an hour to his broker or whomever.

Happy, busy, frantic, sun, breeze. Yep, being a freelancer type is pretty good work, if you can get it. (And thanks to all of you, I do. Thank you.)

However, the last nice day I walked past the house, the scene was different. High-Roller Man was out on the porch, but there was no headset. No laptop. No wild conversation and deal making. He was napping, eyes closed, feet up. A huge bandage wrapped around his head. A fat cast enclosed one unlucky foot. A cane poised for action right by his elbow. It was peaceful, and sad. I wondered what had happened to the guy...unlucky ski accident? Car crash? Beaten by a crazed jealous mistress?

The man looked broken, but incredibly serene, taking in the breeze quietly from the porch he never had time to really enjoy.

Not to make this one of those annoying (cue acoustic folk stylings) "sometimes, you just have to smell the roses" kind of blog posts. This is one of those, "go chase your dreams before your jealous mistress beats you to a bloody pulp because you work too hard" kind of blog posts. One of those, "love your job but love your life too, or someone might break your legs" numbers.

Interpret as you wish.

Soon, Flying Bicycle will be landing for a bit, just a short bit—while I'm most likely scouting for international office locations and researching for more GetLostMt.com trip ideas. Taking off in mere weeks, back at it in June! Because it's good to work hard, just not ALL the time.

Hope you feel better soon, porch freelancer guy.