What are you doing next? I get this question a lot now; now that my time getting smaller and smaller, my own personal draw-down, I ask myself the same question. And I understand this simple fact:
I’m really going to get into Legos when I’m done here.
You see, I really loved Legos when I was little. And I bought a VW van kit last December and loved assembling it. My mom said that Legos was the best babysitter ever. I would sit for countless hours just building and I didn’t know what it was going to be until the last brick got put in its place.
So I’m going to get involved in that subculture when I’m done: (Google: LEGO FANATICS and say goodbye to your afternoon.) I’m going to get the City Legos and the Mindstorm Legos (and maybe play with this kid I know, Tyler McRae or Nathan Calles.) I might build the Death Star. I might invite you to help. I might not though. I might watch Friday Night Lights while I work on it. I’ll have some kits and then do my own designs. You might get a box for your birthday, built out of Legos.
Because my life is a lot like these Legos, the different kits, the different parts. I haven’t followed one path of a career, but an amalgam of different ones. And I’m going to try to spend the summer figuring out how to assemble them, make them fit. I’m meeting with a cast of characters I’m meeting from the five conferences I’ll be attending. Yeah, you heard me. FIVE. (I’ll talk more about those later.)
But I’m not intimidated; I’m not scared I’ll be homeless. And yes, I’ll have this gap on my resume for about six months. And I’m ready for the question:
“I see there’s a six month gap in your resumé. Can you tell us about that?”
“Yes, I saw my friends, lived and played with Legos. Here I am.”