It was three years ago today that Matt left his nice, cushy, secure job as a pipeline engineer to pursue the mobile thing full time.
To commemorate Matt's three-year anniversary, here are a three little factoids about the transition:
When Matt turned in his two-week notice, his boss offered him a promotion, a 20-percent raise, and asked, "Why doesn't your wife quit her job instead?"
For the first nine months of self employment, Matt worked out of our 850-square-foot apartment. He spray-painted mobiles out of the living room window and hung half-done projects from the 18-foot ceilings. Paint cans, boxes, metal shards, and bubble wrap occupied every nook and cranny. It was pure squalor. And it's a small miracle that we got our entire deposit back when we moved (to a town home with a garage, hallelujah).
Three months after Matt quit his job, we found out I was pregnant with Riley. He entered severe panic mode and worried whether it was irresponsible to think this totally random niche business could support a family and provide health insurance. Turns out, it could just fine.
So yeah, I'm very proud of Matt. And I'm especially glad his work setup has no commute, allowed us to move to such a great city, and lets us sleep in 'til 8 a.m. on a regular basis. Here's to many more years of mobile making!
Matt, a mobile, and the source of panic in the town home that saved our sanity.