There’s a certain kind of quiet glory that doesn’t come from grand triumphs, but from small, consistent wins. Like waking up in a Marriott, shuffling downstairs in today’s fresh shirt, and discovering that the breakfast is not only free for employees of X Corporation—but good . Not just edible. Not just “included.” But worth sitting down for. Let me take you there. Where Business Casual Meets Breakfast Casual This particular Marriott has mastered the tone. The dining area opens just past the modern lobby and its low, clean couches and oddly placed decorative logs. It’s the kind of lobby that makes you feel slightly underdressed, even in a polo. But walk past the little bar and the Starbucks kiosk—yes, an actual Starbucks with real baristas and espresso machines humming like jet engines (it doubles as a bar at night)—and you’ll find a discreet buffet tucked around the corner. The kind of layout that says, “This is free, but we won’t make you feel desperate about it.” There are no loud ...

  You remember those old Love Is... comics? The little cartoon couple with captions like: Love is... sharing an umbrella. Love is... never falling asleep angry. Love is... holding hands forever. Cute stuff. But the longer We are together, the more I realize: real love isn’t always sunshine and roses. Sometimes love is 5 days of chaos — followed by pulling into the airport curb like it’s no big deal. Monday: The Drop-Off It all started on Monday. I had the first flight out of GSO — one of those “set the alarm for a time that starts with a 4” situations. While most of the world was still asleep, Jamie was already up, dressed, and driving me to the airport in the dark. No traffic. No drama. Just: "Text me when you land." Easy, right? That was the last easy part of her week. The Five Days Between While I was off training and eating my way around Chicago, Jamie was home running a full-contact obstacle course. She locked down the entire house, including our own ...

Listen, I don’t usually throw around phrases like "life-changing," but here we are. After years of stubbornly standing in the regular TSA line a couple of times a year with the masses, removing my belt like a hostage, doing the barefoot shuffle while my dignity leaks out onto the cold airport floor, I finally caved.I knew i would be doing some serious traveling. I paid the money. I got TSA PreCheck. And friends, let me tell you: it’s the best $78 I have ever spent in my entire life. I would have happily paid double. Triple, even. This is not an endorsement. This is a full-blown testimonial. Most of the time I'd rather hit myself in the thumb with a hammer than willingly give the government any money, I went three years without buying aa fishing license once The Line That Feels Like a Secret Society The first thing you notice is how calm it is. PreCheck people are different. It’s like we’ve all silently agreed: "We know what we’re doing here. Let’s keep it moving...

You know that thing where you sign up for a new gig, meet a whole new crew of people, and within a few weeks you’re all sitting in a restaurant together like you’ve known each other since third grade? That was this week. One full week in Glenview, Illinois — which is basically Chicago’s well-behaved suburban cousin — doing training, eating too much, and squeezing in just enough adventure to make the flight home feel well-earned. The Accidental Summer Camp Now, let me start by saying I hadn’t spent much time with this team before. I knew names, seen a faces  for a month on Teams, but that was about it. Funny thing about being stuck in a hotel together for a week of classes, though — you start feeling like you’re in adult summer camp. Same people every day, inside jokes start forming, everyone’s half-exhausted and half-slap-happy by midweek, and next thing you know you’re swapping stories over dinner like lifelong friends. It’s a weird but kind of awesome part of this job — these min...