“What am I supposed to do, Phil? I can’t just quit.”

“Sure you can, Jess. People do it all the time.”

“But my savings will only last so long and I don’t want to have a gap on my resume if it takes a few months to find something.”

“No gaps. No looking for something you don’t really want to find. You can be employed, right now, in the job of your dreams.” Phil sounded serious. “Describe that to me—describe the job of your dreams. Not a magical job where you don’t work, but an actual job that would make you happy. Don’t overthink it, just go. Now.”

“Ok. Umm. It would be creative. I know that.”

“What kind of creative? Painting, performance art, designer drugs—what are you making?”

“I...I don’t know. Movies, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Movies. When I was younger I thought I would make movies. It was silly, but when there was no such thing as rent, that’s where I thought I’d be.” Jesse could hear more than a tinge of sadness in his own voice. “I liked being behind the camera. It felt like I could splice together any story I wanted from the pictures I took, and I liked how different the same footage could seem if cut together in a different context.” Jesse cleared his throat. “So that’s what I would be. I’d work behind the scenes in film. Which is not far off of dreaming that I’ll be discovered by Steven Spielberg by hanging out at the local Starbucks.”

Phil laughed again. “No, it’s not even close. Do you know what film makers do when they need rent? They do corporate videos, training films, weddings—they make mini movies for money while they work on their own projects on the side. They don’t do reports.”

Jesse shook his head. “Yeah, but those teams are hard to get into. They only really hire their friends.”

“Where do those teams come from?” Phil let the words hang in the air between them.

“Someone starts them, I guess.”