January 6th, 2026
Today, in real life, was long.
I went to work as usual—a regular day with a few hiccups. The biggest highlight was the fire marshal coming through and clearing our building for our yearly inspection. That was a major win. Considering the site has only been open a little over a year—we officially started December 15th, 2024—it felt good to know we passed without issue. Especially knowing I’ve only been with DSV for about a year and some change, moments like that matter.
Outside of that, the day was fairly standard on the surface—but heavy underneath.
After work, I still had to go to FedEx. I was burning the midnight oil. It was a lot of work, physically and mentally, and honestly, I wasn’t feeling it today. But I went anyway. That’s just what the current season requires. I didn’t get off until around 11 p.m., and by the time I made it home, it was close to midnight. A very long day.
On the home front, I ordered pizza for the kids, trying to keep things simple. Unfortunately, the delivery never showed up due to an address issue. Long story short, the kids ended up going to bed without dinner, which didn’t sit right with me at all. It was one of those small things that hits harder when you’re already exhausted.
That was pretty much the day in real time.
Now—if I were making $140,000 a year, today would have looked completely different.
The fire inspection still would have been a win. That part doesn’t change. But after work, I would have gone straight home. No second shift. No late-night grind. No pushing through when my body and mind were already done for the day.
I would have been home at a reasonable hour. I would have made sure dinner was handled—no delivery mishaps, no scrambling, no kids going to bed hungry. I would have had the energy and presence to close the day properly.
That’s the biggest difference at $140K a year.
It’s not about working less—it’s about working once.
No second job. No constant physical drain. No situations where exhaustion causes things to fall through the cracks. When you’re not stretched thin, you operate with more control, more intention, and more patience.
At $140,000 a year, today would not have ended at midnight.
It would have ended with rest.
With order.
With margin.
And that’s the version of life I’m building toward—one day at a time.
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