Three years ago, I got a warning of eviction and had my car towed—in the same hour.

I was standing in the middle of all that chaos, and somehow… I knew in my soul this wasn’t just bad luck.

It felt like a wake-up call. A divine interruption.

Like the Universe was shaking me by the shoulders saying,

“This isn’t your path. There’s something else.”

I couldn’t even afford the Uber to the tow lot.

And I had work later that day—a draining sales job in a severely toxic and hostile environment.

I desperately needed that paycheck, but taking an Uber would wipe out all my profits for the day.

So what was the point? I felt like I was stuck in a system designed to keep me barely surviving.

And yet… I thought I was supposed to be there.

I could have fun at the job. I was quick, witty, and made people laugh.

So I told myself: “Follow your passion, right?”

But laughter doesn’t pay the bills.

And passion, when wrapped in burnout and underpayment, starts to lose its sparkle.