No Plan. No Problem?

When I moved to Seattle in 1999, I bought a condo on the top of Queen Anne hill. The home was tiny but very efficiently built, with a loft on the top floor and skylight directly above my bed. Only there was rarely sunlight, just lots of rain to lull me to sleep each evening. It literally rained every day the first six months I lived there, and I was delighted, when the sun poked its head out one day late Spring, to have a view of the Olympics. The real estate listing hadn’t even advertised that view from the deck (and shower, believe it or not).

The top of Queen Anne is filled with gorgeous homes, incredible landscaping, and quaint parks. I could walk every day to the Queen Anne Thriftway (now Metropolitan Market) and select fresh ingredients for dinner that night. My dog Shelby loved the home since she always came along for the stroll.

I bought the place for $197K and sold it two years later for $299K. Nice return on investment, even though it took a hard toll on my soul to let it go.

I was trying to reinvent myself at the time —- from Corporate America executive to independent contractor — and things weren’t exactly going according to plan.

If I’d had a plan. Which I didn’t.

I didn’t have many professional connections as I was relatively new to the city. I couldn’t afford to hire a coach. None of my sane friends dared leave a comfy, dependable job with benefits. The expression “fly by the seat of her pants” fit me to perfection.

I sold my condo because my old boss asked if I could house-sit while he was gone for the summer. And since I decided it was time for action of some sort, I put my little baby on the market.

Yep, I took a scary leap I didn’t want to take. I said good-bye to the home I loved, but also welcomed a few additions into my life that “clicked.”

I had a free place to stay in a gorgeous home in Kirkland (thanks, Pascal).

I got a part-time job as an adjunct professor at Seattle University.

I landed a couple of consulting gigs.

I joined the Wining Women (a running group that mainly drank wine).

Heck, I even got engaged.

(That was also when I turned down my friend Bill to run a division of his business.)

Are there things I would have done differently? You betcha! Was it smooth sailing? Trust me, there were torrential winds blowing me all over the sea. Was it a tale of rags to riches? Lord, no. In fact, the title of this article should have probably been Ten Moves Not to Make if Leaving Corporate America.

But I got a few lucky breaks. Made enough money to pay the bills. Traded security for a lifestyle that felt closer to freedom.