Why I Still Miss Waiting Tables In A Ski Town

I really don’t hate my current job.

And, no, I’m not defending any ambivalence I might feel toward my dream side-gig writing about skiing. I’m referring to the one I’m at forty hours a week: desk-bound, making sales, plugging orders into a computer, and navigating the–shall we call it–interestingly mundane landscape of day job office politics. I also write, but instead of jetting off to parts unknown to cover adventure, exquisite cuisine, and over-the-head turns brought to you by the Sea of Japan...