In 1983, I was living in California, representing a New York based jewelry manufacturer in the Golden State and in the surrounding five Western states. It was a prosperous time financially—the bills were paid; more than that, I was accumulating a little nest egg of savings. I was living the dream, but soon it began to catch up to me.
On the surface, it felt like a blissful time. I had a thriving social life, I was making a lot of new friends, and I was traveling to wonderful places. It was a new life for me, something I could hardly imagine with my Brooklyn frame of reference. But the good times began to overtake my life because they felt better than the actual work.
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