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.