We were poor and young and happy. There was very little to worry about because life was so simple then. We were trying to enjoy our lives as much as possible. We were new to adulthood and responsible life then. We were yet to find out all its tricks and challenges. I remember all those turning points that affected me as a person. There wasn’t much of anything to take from 2017 except for this vacation. This was the best thing that happened to me in a long time right before all the shit hit the fan. These were truly the best and worry-less days of our lives, and they still bring pleasure when I think about them now.

It was a hot July of 2017. The vacation season was here. My wife and I, married for about a year then, decided that we need to take a break from everything and go on vacation. I worked for a finance company in Southern Jersey, and she was working for an accounting firm in suburban Pennsylvania. The company I worked for was going through some transformations and leadership changes as my job were becoming less and less relevant and soon to end for me. My wife’s job was an hourly contract position with no benefits, a few hours a day commuting, and the same boring accounts payables every fucking day.

I was on the market, secretly looking for something new. I’ve lost any interest in working in the office at all. But, I had to do it, I had to pay the bills and credit cards and the school loans and anything else that I owed to anybody. This is the game which we all have to play. As long as you play it right, you should be okay. I didn’t have any particular interest career-wise as I started thinking about becoming a writer. I was already playing it wrong. But becoming a writer doesn’t mean that I would pay my bills right away with my writing. Maybe I could? If I could only dedicate myself to the craft more. I surely could. We were both fed up with our jobs, and the daily routine, and taking a vacation was a no-brainer.

We booked a hotel in Center City Sarasota, Florida, for five days over the July 4th holiday. Things were about to change for both of us right after this trip. But before that, we lived pretty happy and boring lives and didn’t have many expectations. The trip to Florida in a car was roughly about eighteen hours, with just some brief food and restroom stops. Since we both lived paycheck-to-paycheck, driving was the best option for us. The hotel was booked for July 4th. We’ve decided to leave Philadelphia on the evening of July 3rd to get there in the afternoon on the 4th. We were going to celebrate Independence Day in the beautiful Sarasota, getting baked under the bright Florida sun. Our hotel was located right there in Center City, close to all restaurants and the best beaches with the whitest sand and the most gorgeous sunsets ever.

“Okay, my bag is ready. Taking that to the car. Are you ready with your stuff, babe?” I asked, feeling the internal rush inside me as we were packing our bags and stocking them into a car.

“I am almost done. Give me a few minutes.” She said, running around trying to remember or not to forget all the little things we might need for the next five days.
“Sounds good. I just can’t wait to get the hell out of here and hit the road.” It was a long ride from Philadelphia down to Florida, but we had all the time in the world.
“Okay, honey, I am ready. You can take this last bag out to the car. I’ve packed all the hygiene stuff in there.” Said my wife with a bit of relief.
I’ve packed my car with all the bags we decided to take with us. The sun was still up, and it was hot outside. The car is running with AC on. We both were back inside, drinking some coffee before we hit the road.
“So, I guess we got it all babe, right?”
“Yes, I hope we did. If not, then we will just have to buy that in Florida. But I’m pretty sure I’ve packed all the essential stuff,” said my wife.
“Sounds good.”

One thought alone of leaving our place and leaving this town already felt like a holiday. I couldn’t wait to get to Florida. The daily routine was really on our nerves. There is something unattractive in doing the same thing every day and seeing the same boring place every day that is just annoying to even think about it. We all needed a break from it all. Around seven in the evening, we walked out of our house. There are about eighteen hours until our destination. Check-in time at the hotel was three pm. We had plenty of time, and time was all we had.

“Alright, Philadelphia, we won’t be missing you anytime soon. Goodbye!” Said I, rolling out of our neighborhood, following the GPS directions. My wife was sitting right next to me. She had a smile on her face. She looked great and happy. In about twenty minutes, we were on the highway ninety-five going South, all the way down South to the beautiful Sarasota, Florida.

“The hotel I booked looked great in the pictures. It is some kind of renovated old building with some cool designs, and art and stuff. You’ll see. I cannot wait to get there. By the way, they called me earlier today and said that they’ve upgraded us to a suite. How great is that?!” She was so excited.
“Excellent! I don’t mind living in a suite for the next few days. This trip started great already.”

It wasn’t great for too long. We got stopped in Maryland for speeding. I was sure too excited about the whole vacation thing. Luckily, I’ve got just a warning. Then, on the next day in Georgia, we got pulled over and fined for speeding and tinted windows. These fucking cops were always there when you don’t expect them, and never when you do need them to show up. Other than that, our road trip was great. As usual, it has been a long and tedious ride. We talked, laughed, listened to some music, listened to some comedy specials. We were quiet for some time and then talked some more. These long road trips are great to be with one another and get to know each other better. We lived under the same roof for a few years then, but I cannot remember when we talked this much. This fucking daily grind was killing the living souls inside of us. The best thing about the whole road trip was that we still had so much to say to each other and laugh.

We arrived in Sarasota late afternoon. Tired from the trip but happy to be there. Our hotel at Indian Place was this older building, renovated for a hotel with a small parking lot in front of the entrance and a few cars parked there. The city looked new and modern, and you just wanted to be there.

“Hi, there!” We were greeted by an older lady on the front desk.
“Hello, we have a reservation for Mary Loraine.”
“Sure, let me find you here. Okay, here you go. Just so you know, your reservation was promoted to a suite. It is on the third floor. A beautiful room. I hope you’ll love it.”
“Great, we are excited,” said my wife, smiling.
“Okay, please fill out this form and I am going to give you the key to your room.” My wife filled out the form, and we’ve got the key.

The building was old, and there was no central air conditioning. There were a couple of big fans in the hall running around the warm, humid air. There was no elevator either, so I had to make a few trips to the car to get our bags up to the third floor. On the other hand, we’ve paid for the money, and whatever we could afford, this place was a great deal.

Entering our room, we’ve walked into a large living room with a hardwood floor. The room was ample with the couch against one wall and two modern-art pictures hanging right above it. In the middle of the living room was a small glass reading table, and there was a TV against the opposite wall. Two bar stools and a minibar table were located in the left corner of the living room, and in the opposite corner was a small writing desk with a chair. I could use it, I thought, if I get inspired enough, I can write something there.

All walls were painted white with purple stripes near the ceiling, all around the room; certain parts of the wall were utterly purple. The kitchen was located to the left of the mini-bar. There were a couple of high-rise red stools around the small round kitchen table. The kitchen was pretty old, the furniture was surely dated except for these two high rise stools, but that was fine. In a way, it just added to the whole atmosphere. We loved it. On the other side of the suite was a large bedroom with a king-sized bed, two nightstands, and three large windows. One of them had the AC unit in it. There was a little hallway right out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The bathroom was decorated in black and white tiles, back and white curtains, and everything was black and white in there. It all made perfect sense. One could feel like everything was designed with a style and passion and good taste in combining old and modern pieces and art and colors. We loved our room. It was inspiring. This place was meant to be a great place to stay, and it was.

We were tired and hungry. We took a shower and unpacked quickly. In under an hour, we were ready to venture out of the building.
“Damn, I am so hungry!” Said I with my stomach making funny noises.
“Me too. Let’s get outside and find a great restaurant. I looked a few places up. We are walking distance close to everything.”
“Great, I cannot wait anymore. Let’s go and grab something,” said I, staffing my wallet, phone, and the keys into my pockets.
“What would you like to eat honey?” My wife asked.
“I don’t know. I am really hungry, and when I am that hungry, I am looking for a nice large pasta meal with some meat or seafood. What about you?”
“I love pasta and seafood. Let’s find a nice place, maybe Italian?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
It was still hot and humid outside as we were strolling down the sidewalk towards the Main street with all the restaurants and bars. I pulled out a cigarette and lit.
“Hey, don’t smoke! It stinks.” Said my wife with annoyance.
“Sorry babe, I am just trying to relax a bit and get my nicotine fix. I’ll walk behind you, so you don’t have to smell it.”
“You still shouldn’t smoke. It is bad for you and smells horrible!”
“You are right. Let me enjoy my cigarettes, at least while we’re on vacation.”

I was thinking about quitting right after. Just not now. It is so enjoyable when you are on vacation.” It was the best excuse I’ve got. I was indeed trying to quit smoking for a while. There was always something in the way. There was still a new excuse that let me continue to smoke. There was never a perfect time for quitting. I was younger then, didn’t feel any harm, and everything just felt great. When you feel great, you don’t think about improving your conditions. This was the problem with smoking and everything else.

We found a nice Italian restaurant on Main street. It wasn’t packed, there were just a few tables occupied. More people arrived shortly after we came in. The place had some tables set up outside, but it was too hot to be there and especially to eat in that heat. We’ve got our table right by the window and in front of the bar. There was a table with these four or five older women, who were a bunch of friends and talked loud all the time. They seemed to know the owner, an Italian guy, and spoke aloud with him across the room in Italian.

Florida always felt like its own country to me. Most people spoke Spanish, and nobody ever mentioned that you had an accent, nobody cared that you had an accent. Nobody spoke English fluently, but they all lived here in this hot paradise by the beach with all the sand and palms, and sunlight, and humidity, and they didn’t care about the rest of the world. The rest of the world was coming down here to enjoy a little bit of that paradise and take it easy. And so were we. We were trying to re-juice ourselves after the dull and soul-crushing routine life in the Northeast. Florida just made perfect sense.

They served a nice meal. It all went down perfectly with a few cold Corona Extras. I had a cup of espresso after, and it made me feel alive.
“I am going to pay for it with my card,” said I.
“It’s okay. I can take care of it.” Said, my wife. She paid for the hotel already, and I felt like I was losing my balls.
“No, babe, I got it. I don’t have any cash at all, but we still have some space on that credit card.”

That was true, during this last year we were living from paycheck to paycheck. There was very little we could save if anything. I was trying to be a man and pay for bills, which left me with nothing extra. My wife’s pay was much smaller, but she was able to do some minimal savings. My current job was quite an improvement from the one I had before, but there wasn’t much left at the end of the day. We had more expenses than income, and that was our life back then. We were trying to stretch everything as much as possible. I needed to change that job. It was useless. It wasn’t much in terms of pay, but also it lost any sense to me. It seemed like my job was becoming irrelevant, and the progress just wasn’t there. One could feel that I had my days numbered there. I felt that for sure. I was already looking for a new job, looking for a change in something. I wasn’t looking into myself much. That was the problem.

After I paid the bill before leaving the place, the owner guy stopped by and asked if everything was okay. We said yes, our meals were great, and we thanked them and tipped the waiter well. We walked down the street somewhere without any particular direction.

“I wonder where all those people are going?”
“I don’t know, let’s follow them and find out?” Said, my wife.
“Okay, we don’t have anything else to do anyway.”

As we walked, it was getting darker outside. We saw posters around with fireworks announcement in honor of the July 4th scheduled for nine o’clock. At the very end of the street was a pier with yachts and boats parked on the water. The crowd seemed to be arriving down there from everywhere. We walked on the dock, watching the fancy ships with our jealous eyes. We felt so poor. We were such small people that our existence was almost unnoticeable amongst those large yachts with a party on board.

“How lucky are some people to own a yacht like that? These are millions floating on the water, and there’s a bunch of them! I wish I could have one at some point in my life.”
“Yeh, these boats are great and crazy expensive. It’ll be cool to have one someday. Who knows, maybe we’ll be able to?”
“Say it one more time, babe.”
“You don’t need that to be happy, honey. We’ve got us; we love each other, we are happy and that’s all that matters. Those boats don’t mean love or happiness; they just mean shit-ton of money on the water, just a show-off.”
“You are making a lot of sense right now, babe. I concur.”
“Let’s enjoy our lives as they are. Let’s experience what we can, and all the rest will come in later.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Do you want to go and watch some fireworks? They should be starting soon.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”

There is something about the fireworks that excites people. Fireworks excite kids, of course, and the poor people who don’t have much of the sparks and light in their own lives. You usually get fireworks fired on Independence Day and New Year’s Day. Every time I watch them, it just feels like something special is about to happen. It feels like a new life is about to begin. It feels like there is a future; there is hope, there is something else.

The crowd looked in the sky as these massive explosions of colorful lights went up in the air with a ton of sparks and noize exploding and falling, disappearing in the air. The next one went up and blasted the same way. The crowd cheered with every single one. The fastest and louder these fireworks went up in the air, the more the crowd cheered. There were all kinds of people: many tourists, locals, the rich on yachts, and the poor gathered on the ground. The people on the yachts were watching the fireworks with glasses in their hands and smiles on their faces. They sure had a little less to worry about then people on the ground. They sure were happy to be up there. Everyone seemed to be happy for those twenty minutes. We were happy too.

After it all ended, we strolled back to our hotel. I had a six-pack of Corona in the fridge, I bought on our way at the Florida gas station, and some potato chips. I had a pack of cigarettes and a book I wanted to read while here on vacation. I had nothing to worry about and nowhere to go to in the morning. I owned my life for those few days completely, and I would try to fully enjoy it. Nothing feels better than this.

Back in our room, we put the TV on and watch some movies. I never watch TV in my day-to-day life, only when I stay at the hotel while traveling. I stay up late, flipping through the channels trying to find something interesting to watch until the next advertisement, and then I keep searching more and move on to another channel and so on until I fall asleep.

“Okay, I am so tired now. I am going to bed. Aren’t you going to bed, honey?” My wife asked yawning.
“No, not yet. I have this book I want to read. There’s some more beer left, so I’ll stick around for a little while.”
“Okay, whatever you want to do. I am done. Good night, honey. Don’t stay up too late; get yourself some rest.”
“Sure, good night, babe.”

I turned off the TV and got myself another bottle of beer. Nothing was exciting on that TV; I’d rather read my book now, I thought to myself. I brought “The catcher in the rye” by J.D. Salinger with me on this vacation. I have heard so much about this novel and its influence but never read it. I thought this might be a great, short book to read on this vacation and damn right it was. Since the first sentence, I was hooked on this book. It was written in this simple, honest, and interesting style with so much attitude. I’ve never read anything like it. You can feel the emotions coming through the author’s writing as these emotions go through me reading this book. I should’ve read this book so much earlier in my life, but even reading it then, it was a great discovery for me in my late twenties. The significant influence on me as a writer as well. I relate to the honest, raw writing, and real-life storytelling, and the attitude is always there, a lot of it. I want to write like that. I felt like writing myself, writing now a life story about my confused twenties and how I was bouncing back and forth in this life, not knowing where to go and what to do. Hell, this life was a gamble. I wish I knew the tricks.

I sipped on my beer and ate some potato chips as I read through the book. It was a small book, and the pages just flipped one after the other. These pages excited me, and the beer excited me. I forgot about going to bed; I wanted to read, I wanted to write; I was so inspired. I also wanted to smoke like you usually do after a few bottles of beer. I left the book on the reading table and went outside with my beer and a cigarette.

It was hot outside, but the cold beer helped. I lit my cigarette and blew the smoke in the sky. I sipped on my beer and looked around. Outside it was dark and lonely and well past midnight, and life was great for a moment. There was some light coming in from the street and onto the palms on the parking lot. There was almost no breeze, and the palms just stood there motionless. There was a massive commercial hotel building right across the street. It felt lonely in there; all those floors and windows just felt lonely and soulless. Our hotel was old but had some history and soul and style in its walls. I loved that.

Smoking, I started to think about my life and where this all was going. I began to compose a short story in my head about me staying outside, late at night, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, thinking about life. I knew that my job won’t last for too long. There was nothing to hold on to and no prospects. I was looking for a new job, but I didn’t want to do any jobs. I never had a career plan in my head figured out. I wasn’t sure what career plan was the right one for me. What would I like to do? What do I enjoy doing? I didn’t have any answers, but I knew it sure wasn’t the fucking corporate office job. I know some people who are more focused on this than I am. They know where they are going, and they know what to do. Everything was happening to them. Nothing was happening for me. As soon as I got something going, it was going away from me. I wanted to write; I loved the idea of getting my thoughts and stories and experiences down on the paper. I loved the way J.D. Salinger did it; I love the way Hemingway and Bukowski have done it. I need to figure out how I am going to do it. The cigarette was burning with the red light slowly approaching the filter and started to burn my fingers. I took the last drag and threw it out in the ashtray. I felt a little light-headed and drunk as I went up to the room. I continued my reading until I fell asleep.

The next day greeted us with some more sunshine and heat. My wife woke up before I did, took a shower, then I was up.

“Good morning, honey. Do you want to go out for breakfast somewhere? We don’t have anything to eat here except for some potato chips.”
“Good morning. Sure, let’s go out somewhere. Let me take a shower first.”
“Okay, I’ll be unpacking our stuff. We still have so much in those begs.”
“Alright.”

After breakfast, we went to the beach. As the sun picked at noon, it was almost impossible to stay on the beach for longer than thirty minutes. As I was lying on a towel, I felt like my skin was getting burned by the brutal Florida sun. I felt like my skin tightened and was about to crack.

“Maybe, we go back to the hotel? It is getting way too hot. It is impossible to stay on the beach anymore.”
“I think you are right, babe, let’s go back to our room and relax a little bit. We can come back later in the afternoon when the sun is not burning so much.”

We went back to the car with all our belongings. I felt like the heat rubbed me. We came all the way here to Florida to enjoy the beach, but it was nearly impossible to enjoy anything when it was so hot outside. Back in the hotel, everything was the same. We saw some people leaving the hotel, and some new people arrived. The parking lot was half empty. Everyone had something to do and somewhere to go.

Back in our room, we drew the shades down to prevent sunlight and help cool that place down. We were on the third, top floor. We were getting all the sunshine there was to get.

“I am so sleepy – said, my wife. I am going to take a nap. How about you?”
“I’m alright. I might join you. I have to call this recruiter back. Somebody left me some voicemails. You go and take your nap, babe. Love you.”
“Okay, I love you too. Good luck with that phone call.”
“Thank you.”

My wife disappeared into the bedroom, and I was left alone in the living room, browsing through my emails. There were three voicemails and five emails from various recruiters left in the last few hours. I took my time reading through them. A couple of those opportunities were way out of my league. Some were okay. I knew I could bullshit my way through them. I called back the first voicemail.

“Hi, this is John Loraine, I am returning your call from earlier today regarding the Analyst position.”
“Oh, hi, John. Glad you’ve called me back. How are you?”
“I am well, thank you. How are you?”
“I am great, thanks. So, what did you think about the job description I sent you?”
“I think the job description sounds interesting. This is what I wanted to do. I have a lot of relevant experience, and I think this is where my next career step will be.”

“Great, sounds good, John. This job is working with different functions, and collaborating with them to identify opportunities and optimize the business processes. It involves a lot of reporting, as you know, as you did in the past, so I think you should be a great match for this role. Right now, I just need you to sign and return the form I sent you in the email so that we can move forward with the process. I will reach out back to you with the next steps. Does it sound okay to you?”

“Sure, sound good. Thank you!”
“Great, thank you, John! I will be in touch with you soon. Have a great day!” He said happily on the phone and hung up.

“You as well.” Said I and my mind was already browsing through the job description, trying to do the job already. I was worried. The job search was a tough process. The economy is not at it’s best, but the jobs are out there, and one should have to outshine everybody if you want to score a job. You also have to sound enthusiastic and passionate about it. I was trying to. I knew when this vacation is over, and I am back to the office, that fuckery will end for me soon. I felt it. I could smell it in the air. And looking forward to the near future, I was right about it. I opened a cold beer and drank some while looking at the wall paintings, thinking about my future. The more I drank, the more I felt like I wanted to smoke a cigarette. There is nothing better than a cigarette after a beer. I went outside and smoked one, enjoying the hot, humid day.

I didn’t go to sleep with my wife as I decided I wanted to write something. There was a writing desk in the corner of the living room, and my laptop was there. All I need to do is to sit down and start writing. It is as simple as that, but it is always the hardest move to make. I sat in front of my laptop, thinking. What should I write about? It didn’t take me too long to figure out that I had nothing to say. I thought I did, but I didn’t. I like to marinate my ideas for a while before writing them down. Sometimes the words just come to me, and I write them down, and the page gets filled with them. I opened my email and started reading various emails I’ve received from recruiters and anything else in my mailbox.

We went out for dinner that evening. Sarasota, Florida, was always warm and sunny. The palms, baked in the sun all day, were now getting some rest and a little evening breeze. There was a sound of the ocean moving and breathing in the air. There weren’t too many people outside, and it was comfortable that way. My wife and I walked to the restaurant holding hands talking about the little things. It didn’t matter; it was just great to be together and not be distracted by the busy world in our day-to-day life. Everything has stopped for us while we were here, on our little vacation. Florida is that kind of place where the time stops, and you get all the sunshine and all the love and all the humidity you want along with all the best beaches, the whitest sand, and the brightest ocean you can have. Everything is here for you.

“Hey, babe, do you want to go to the beach after dinner and just sit there and chill?” I asked.
“Yes, that sounds great. I couldn’t enjoy the beach during the day since it was so hot out. But now it feels much better, and the sun is not burning you down.” Said my wife with a smile on her face. There was something genuine and pure and honest about her smile that I always loved. We were having fun together. We could finally have fun together again.

After dinner, we went back to our room. The hotel was half empty. Many residents were hanging out somewhere. We’ve picked up some snacks, a bottle of wine and cups, and my wireless speaker to bring us to the beach. We drove down to Lido Beach, which was our favorite beach during this visit. We’ve parked on the street, right next to the beach entrance. It was semi-deserted, so we could pick a great spot to put our chairs down and be away from others. The sun was about to set behind the horizon, and it was just a perfect time to be there on the beach. I’ve placed my chairs on the sand, and we took some pictures. I opened the bottle of wine and poured some wine in the plastic cups. The Bluetooth speaker played some great music, setting up the mood right.

The ocean was calm as if resting for the night after a busy day. The sun was setting down with every minute, and the sky was turning bright orange. We sat there with our wine watching the day ending. There was nothing as beautiful and picturesque as that sunset. The sun went down slowly behind the ocean, and there was this magic happening right in front of our eyes. I, just like many others, rarely have time to watch sunsets and sunrises. We could finally slow down, pause the madness, and just sit back, relax, and enjoy it fully. The ocean wasn’t loud, the sea birds were chirping and flying around, and there was this perfect calm in the air. I observed it as I sipped my wine. Thoughts were getting in and out of my head. Just for that brief moment, nothing bothered me anymore. Nothing did matter to me anymore. It was just us, the ocean, and the sky. We were young and as free as we could be. We were in love, and we loved to be together, and we loved the sunsets and the beach and the sand.

I picked a cigarette out of the mack of red Marlboro’s and lit it. It felt relaxing. It was amazing to see how little you need to feel great. I couldn’t remember feeling this great in a long time. This last year was a pretty dull and useless time for me in my personal and professional life. My job was ending; there was nothing there for me to keep. I needed to make my next move, and I wasn’t sure what it would be yet. I was looking and waiting for the magic to happen. It took longer than I thought. My personal life was in limbo. We were in love; we were together for almost seven years now and our marriage. My wife was talking about having children more often. Having children felt like another burden on me at that time. I couldn’t focus on that while I was in doubt about myself and my life. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have children who depend on me, who need me every day, and I have to make all the right moves in my life to support and teach them and raise them. I needed to work on myself more. I needed to raise myself first before I could think about raising children. I needed some direction in life because I felt so lost and disconnected from everything.

Everything was going well, or most of the time, everything was going well. Now I don’t even know what “well” meant anymore. Life was changing every day, but I wasn’t changing with it. It felt like I was legging, I was lost somewhere in the past refusing to move on, refusing to see the next day, facing the future, and challenging myself for once. It took some time later on in life to figure this out. There is a proper time for everything. There is a proper time for making mistakes and the appropriate time for fixing the errors made. There is always a time to change and to improve and to get your shit together.

The bright-orange sky added some new deep and bright colors to its picture. There was more pink and red and purple in the air before the sunset all the way down. Everything was grey and dark, and the magic was over. We enjoyed that sunset a lot as we enjoyed the wine on the beach and the music and the great time we spent together.

“Honey, do you want to go back to the hotel now? It is getting dark now.” Said, my wife.
“Sure, let’s wrap this up. Wow, it has been an amazing sunset. We should come back here tomorrow and do the same.”
“That’s a great idea. We’ll come back tomorrow. Are you hungry?”
“No, I am good. How about you? Do you want to grab something on the way?”
“We can stop somewhere and grab a salad or something. I am not that hungry.”
“Okay, sound good.”

We got our bag and chairs and went back to the car.
Back in the hotel we watched some TV and then made love. It wasn’t too long after my wife was asleep, and I was still there with my beer and my book. I went back to my reading from the night before. Holden’s story was getting more and more enjoyable. I was fascinated by how much of the real hard emotions and attitude was invested in this book. I wanted to write like that. I enjoyed that kind of open, raw, authentic, and compelling writing with guts. I surely loved to read fiction with such real, almost autobiographical stories. I knew that the best writers always wrote the truth in those stories most of the time. I read the book while drinking my beer.

After a while, I went outside to smoke a cigarette. It was calm and hot outside. The palms were still there, staying lonely and bored, catching the breeze and the street light on their leaves. I loved this place, and I would stay here forever. I didn’t want to go back home to Philly. We still had two more days here, and that made me feel better. Back home, I needed to make some adjustments and changes which will impact my life severely. I will be turning thirty next month, and that number alone says that I should be more mature than I am. I should’ve been more successful and focused, and have more money, and start children, and start writing, which I had never dedicated any time to. There were so many things I should’ve done but didn’t do anything for it. I was always waiting for something to come to me. I was still waiting for something to happen. Whatever it was, I felt like I just needed to wait and see. That was the recipe for failure, and I’ve learned it later in life. Now it all feels like this is real life, and I am here to live it.
The cigarette tasted great, and the smoke was coming in and out of my lungs as the beer was coming more and more into my head. I was getting tired and sleepy. I went back to my room and took a shower. My wife was quietly sleeping all alone on that king-size bed. I joined her and fell asleep within minutes. It was a great day, and it was a great night.

The next morning brought more sunshine and humidity. It was too hot to be outside for even a minute. We cooked some eggs for breakfast in our room and brewed some coffee to wake up properly. The dark sunscreens were pulled all the way down since there was just too much sunshine. I still felt yesterday’s beer on my breath and in my head. It is always hard the next morning after a good night’s drinking.

I had a phone interview scheduled that day. We went to the beach, and twenty minutes later, I had to go back to the car to take the call. All you have to do during the interview is to smile and sound confident. The people like that. They might not know that you don’t know anything, as long as you seem confident, and as long as you tell them what they want to hear, you will be successful.

The call was with a lady from a consumer goods company. This company, which produces everything from toilet paper to diapers, needed an analyst. I needed a job. I had some skills to offer and a few years of relevant experience. The lady on the phone sounded like she wasn’t too interested in conducting the interview; there could also be other people in the room listening to the call, as I suspected. She was just trying to be friendly and kind all the time. I tried to make my point and show off my skills and sell my soul to that lady. I thought it was a good interview except for one thing; they needed more experience than I had. She said they had other candidates, but will get back to me once the interview process is over. I thought that this is never a promising statement, and also I suspect the fake emotions in her voice. I thanked her, but my hopes were not high for this opportunity. Who knows? Anything could happen.

I went back to the beach where my wife almost burned alive under that crazy sun over the last thirty minutes. We packed and went back to the hotel. We spent some time at the hotel; we went out for dinner, we went out to the beach to see yet another magnificent sunset. It felt like I could watch a million sunsets on that beach. Every day coming to an end, it felt like something great and extremely important was going away from me, from us. It felt like our youth was going away with those beautiful sunsets, it felt like the ocean took our worry-less lives out and brought us some crazy waves and the storm that will disturb all the innocent youth.

I knew that sooner or later, I had to pay the price. I knew that as soon as we came back home, our lives would change. I felt like the catcher in the rye, just like Holden, I wanted to protect myself and ourselves from entering adulthood and all the problems with everything else. I wanted to be young and live my life to my own pleasure. I did not want to go back to work, again to do what I hate, deal with people I don’t like, and live in that place day in and out. I will always be an outsider. My life and career will change, and I didn’t even know then how bad. I wanted to take full control of it, but I wish I knew how to do it properly. Just like this great vacation, everything will come to an end eventually. I wasn’t ready for it, but I didn’t have much choice. I had to play the game and be part of something, or I will become an outcast. Next month I will turn thirty. I didn’t know what to do with my life. I knew for sure that I wanted to become a writer. I knew for sure that I have my love with me, my wife, and will make her a happy mother one day. I knew that was the most important thing. I also knew that everything office-work related I hated. I knew that there were just too many jobs to hate.

On the day of our departure, Florida was crying with tropical storms, and the streets were all flooded, carrying the water and palm leaves down the road.

“Wow, look at that rain. This is crazy after just fifteen minutes of rain. The streets are all flooded.” Said I to my wife looking through the window.
“I hope it will pass soon. Hopefully, we can get out of here, okay.” Said my wife, while packing our stuff in the bags.

We checked out and hit the road as it rained throughout the entire Florida state. The rain stopped almost at the Georgia border. It was Saturday, and we had the whole day tomorrow to get home and unpack and prep for another work week on Monday. I was driving all the way home with very few brief stops. I knew it would be a long, boring drive, and my favorite podcasts just kept me going through the night, from one state to another, all the way up North. We were going back to the City of Brotherly Love, the adopted city of ours, which had everything but love.