"The Boy Who Lived...out of his car." Part II

In all my years of Level Design, I've learned one constant fact: No two paths into the field are ever the exact same. People find their way in whether they take shortcuts, the long way around, the job drops in their lap, they toil away for years flipping burgers during the day and taking classes at night...but none are ever identical. One thing they all do have in common is that they love what they do. That...and the facts that they are building something that lasts, has their name on it and they want to be there.

So where did I go off the rails? I was doing alright for myself by having a good job and steady income; I was self-supporting then. I had lived and worked in several major US cities up and down the east coast. But the years started to go by faster now. Funny, how when you're a kid, everything takes forever because you're sitting around waiting for someone else to tell you what to do, what to eat, when to go to bed, when to wake for school. No one tells you when you're an adult, life starts to go by faster and you never have enough time to do everything you want to do. I think it has something to do with "responsibilities" getting in the way but I could be wrong. Anyways, I started looking at the clock and the calendar on the wall and I started thinking about the future. Things were good...but they were not great.

You see, people seem to think, "Oh, you were an architect. You must have made good money." I did, but only enough to get by, pay my bills and live comfortably...just not enough to get ahead. Believe me, I saved and cut corners like there was no tomorrow. Architecture, for all it's glamour and prestige, is just like any other business: unless you own the company or you're the boss, you become just another worker bee milling away, paycheck to paycheck, helping someone else achieve their dream.

As the years go by, around five to be exact, I started to think about the future and that old itch I couldn't scratch returned. I rose far enough, from Intern to Project Coordinator to Project Captain, in that time, but I saw the glass ceiling approaching. I honestly could not see myself doing the same thing, for someone else, just for a paycheck. That's when it hit me and it was a shock and a depressive feeling all at the same time. When, after all your family has done for you, all your hard work up until now, all the struggles you thought meant or counted for something, you finally get to a point in life where you're working in a nice office, wearing a shirt and tie, with heating and air-conditioning and a soft, comfortable chair...and you realize you ended up in the factory after all. The walls may look different but make no mistake, it's the same thing. If you're working somewhere with no future, for people you don't like, just for the paycheck, then you're in your own factory. And you need to get out.

I felt not only was I falling far short of my mark and true potential but that I was also not living up to my parents sacrifices. They didn't put their own dreams on hold just so I could "settle." That, and let's just be honest here - I wasn't happy, plain and simple. I called up my father who, to his credit, was ever supportive and said, "If you're not happy, then change. You can do it...but remember, that window is slowly closing." Well, that got the ball rolling. I decided right there and then that I would never be good enough for any job or anyone else if I wasn't happy with myself in life.

I left that job and moved back home setting up shop again one last time with a final architecture firm, still knowing that this career was coming to an end. I should have gotten out sooner but I stuck around two years longer, hoping to prolong the inevitable until I could figure out the next step that would get me on the right path. Life sometimes has a way of forcing your hand, ready or not, and I had reached my breaking point. Emotionally on empty, I walked into my bosses office one day and without a backup plan or safety net, I just quit. He asked me where I was leaving for or what my plan was and I replied, "I have none." I didn't know what I was going to do...I just finally knew that this wasn't it and I was not going to do it one more day.

...Concluded in "The Boy Who Lived...out of his car." Part III