Career Pivot Reflection: When Busy Isn’t the Same as Building

On timing, trade-offs, and deciding to bet on myself

I had planned for this week’s post to be a travel guide to Cologne. I had also planned to publish every Tuesday. But life had other plans. This project is still small — more personal than public — and I’m realizing that part of the work is learning to balance commitment with flexibility. To show up consistently, but also give myself a bit of grace when things shift.

Lately, things have been shifting.

If you’ve read my About page, you know that Fork & Footpath was born out of an unexpected life pivot — the kind you don’t choose, but the kind that forces you to pay attention.

Looking back, my life has recently moved in three‑month chapters.

  • In May, I was given three months’ notice that my role at Google would be eliminated.

  • In June, I committed to a solo trip and spent three months planning it.

  • In August, I left for Europe and spent three months traveling.

And when I returned, I moved quickly into the next phase — starting a full‑time job at Trader Joe’s while attempting to build a consulting business on the side. Three months. Then the next thing. Then the next. Always moving forward. Always appearing productive. Avoiding anything that might look like stagnation — or worse, failure.

But somewhere along the way, I had to ask myself a harder question: what actually is failure?

Failure can also look like drifting away from your values without realizing it.

The intention behind Trader Joe’s was thoughtful, even strategic. I wanted a job outside of corporate America. Something active. Something social. Something that offered strong benefits and a different pace — while I built my consulting business alongside it.

And in many ways, it delivered. The people are genuinely wonderful. The culture is warm. There’s something refreshing about work that is tangible and immediate.

But what I underestimated was the cost — not in effort, but in energy and time.

Working 2pm–10pm shifts meant coming home wired, needing hours to decompress, and slowly losing the ability to create meaningful blocks of time during the day. I was squeezing ambition into one‑hour windows and wondering why nothing was sticking.

Over time, something became clear: I wasn’t moving toward what I wanted — I was just staying busy.

There wasn’t one defining moment, but there were signals. Moments where I felt disconnected from the work. Moments where I realized I was spending more time checking expiration dates than building something I cared about. Moments where I questioned whether I was slowly shelving 20+ years of experience I had worked hard to develop.

And then, more quietly, there was a deeper realization: I didn’t leave corporate life just to create another version of misalignment.

At the same time, I was trying to build something new — my consulting business — but without the time or mental clarity it required. If you’ve ever tried to start something from scratch, you know it doesn’t happen in fragments. It needs focus. It needs space. It needs sustained effort.

And I didn’t have that.

What I did have was a safety net — one I had intentionally built. I still had COBRA coverage. I had moved in with my parents when I anticipated my layoff. I had reduced my expenses and created room for uncertainty.

So the question became unavoidable: What am I waiting for?

A few days later, I put in my notice. I ended up being at Trader Joe’s for, you guessed it, three months.

Putting in my notice wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Walking away from Trader Joe’s meant walking away from people I genuinely cared about — some of the most authentic, kind, and curious individuals I’ve worked with. That part was unexpectedly hard. But I knew, with increasing clarity, that I needed to fully commit to what I was trying to build. Not halfway. Not “on the side.” Fully.

And then, as if on cue, my body forced me to slow down. After giving notice, I got sick — sinus infection, bronchitis, the full reset. It’s something that’s happened to me before during major transitions. Like my system finally decides it’s safe to exhale.

So here I am. A few days out from my last shift. Recovering slowly. Making real progress on my website, my business plan, my brand.

Fork & Footpath exists to share what I’ve learned — from travel, from transitions, and from the everyday footpaths of my own life: the choices, detours, and experiments in how I want to live and work. I’m not an expert. I’m not positioning myself as one.

But I am paying attention. And I’m learning that there are other ways to build a life — ones that aren’t entirely defined by constant productivity, external validation, or the next logical step.

So this is me, choosing differently:

  • Choosing to bet on myself.

  • Choosing to build something intentionally.

  • Choosing to see what happens when I give it my full attention.

Thanks for being here — especially as I figure it out in real time.

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