The sugar white sand beach stretched out in front of me.
Not one person in sight.
This was my favorite spot because I was the only one who came here at 12pm on a Tuesday.
I lugged my laptop bag and an umbrella across 100 yards of scorching beach sand until I reached my spot.
Wow, what a view.
I carefully laid down my towel and popped up a blue striped beach umbrella to protect my pasty, nearly translucent skin from the unforgiving Florida sun. Finally, after wiggling my butt to make a perfectly crafted imprint in the sand, I reached into my lunchbox and pulled out a turkey sub.
Precariously balancing my sub and a water bottle in one hand, I grabbed my laptop with the other.
Yes.
You guessed it. I was attempting to mimic the iconic laptop-on-the-beach picture that couldn’t have worked for anyone ever.
Before long, I had mustard and sand all in my laptop keys, and was yelling profanities at the opportunistic birds attempting to snatch away the salt and vinegar chips I’d kicked over while distracted.
Once my mess was cleaned up, I began writing. I breathed in the salty ocean air while working on the content for a new membership site.
I glanced out over the beach again and saw a person sitting on the beach staring out at the water with his legs crossed. That’s weird I didn’t see where he came from.
I settled into the scenery, and breathed a sigh of relief.
My day had been particularly draining, but moments like these really…
Beep! Beep! BEEEEEEP! The angry alarm on my phone broke through my yogi-like zen.
*$%*#$^!
I had just gotten into a rhythm!
I packed up my towel and umbrella and wolfed down the final bite of my sub. I looked down the beach one last time, and the person seemed to have disappeared. I scurried back over the hot white sand and threw my stuff into the bed of my truck.
I guess it’s time to come clean. At this point in the story I was still very much working for someone else.
The whole beach thing wasn’t my normal day. Whenever I could, I’d steal a rare, undisturbed lunch hour away from the depressingly gray cubicle prison. Back at my office, I sat behind 3 locked doors, trapped in a room colored a skin-tone tan in a 60-year-old government building.
But I was determined.
That would not be the end of my story.
Inbetween lunch and time with my family, I was able to scrape together 2 hours a day to build my dreams.
Although I had worked for years toward owning my own business, I was still stuck in a career I hated while I relegated my dream to the margins of my day.
This is a story of how I got free. Today I own my own business, can work from anywhere, and I’m living the life I had wanted… all by the age of 30.
On that day, the walk back to work felt like a march to prison.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
In this series of posts, you’ll find out how I became an entrepreneur, and why I think you should join me.
Do you want more meaning? Excitement? Adventure? Freedom? Impact? Money?
Then why give someone else your 40 most productive hours each week?
I hope to use my experience as a guide and offer you resources for your own journey into freedom and fulfillment. Hopefully, my story will serve as map for you to achieve your wildest dreams. There’s a whole world out there for you to conquer.
Come join me.
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Author: Joseph Drups
Hi! I’m Joseph, the founder of underdoglife.net. I’m a passionate entrepreneur who loves to write about start-ups, business, passive income, and achieving your purpose. I work on projects that I find meaning in with people who I believe in, and I tell you all about it on my blog. Take a few minutes and drop me a message. I’d love to chat!
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LinkedIn: Joseph Drups
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