That nagging – relentless – unforgiving – angst you feel can be summed up with just one word (and that word is…).

I was a 22 year old college dropout sitting nervously in a face to face meeting with a corporate executive in the capital city of Indiana.

It was, in fact, a day long gauntlet of meetings on that very memorable day. Hands soaked with sweat. Collar too tight. Words uttered (sometimes stuttered) with thoughtful intention. Said to impress.

Eyeball to eyeball with a total of five suited-up powdered wig types, tasked to decide my fate.

During the last meeting of the day, as the words tumbled blurry and jumbled from each middle-aged mouth… ole Necktie says to me,

“Bart, you’ll retire from here a millionaire!”

Now we’re talking! Finally a message for a broke 22 year old to sink his teeth into.

And so, my career in management at the highly esteemed United Parcel Service (UPS) began.

A couple of years later, on a bone-deep freezing winter morning… I quit!


At the time, I had no V8 head-slapping clue – as to why exactly I quit.

My “gut” cocked back and fire’d before I could aim!

Today, of course, I know exactly why I walked away from a sure thing. Why I kicked sand in the face of conventional reason… and jumped (smiling) without the safety of a net.

It’s the same reason real estate sales attracted you and me – like a bear to woods.

Looking back now (with clarity) I’m thankful I ran like Forrest Gump from the worn path of the masses.

From there (after a bum-like sabbatical), I hired in at Spiegel Outlet (remember Spiegel catalog?) in the shipping department.

A short time later, I found myself as the manager of the entire shipping and receiving department.

(It’s not difficult to outwork regular people)

And then… I was fired!

Yes. Fired. Like a rejected red-headed stepchild. Sent pack’n.

Called into HR one day. Sitting there with a mean mug is the big boss man. The head honcho. The corporate suit that only pranced through the building once a quarter or so.

“Bart, did you steal your paycheck… three days before payday?” He said (somehow) with a straight face.

“Yes.” deadpanned as the Buddha himself.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to terminate your employment effective immediately.”

“Seems fair.”

What is wrong with me!? I thought as I exited the building like Elvis.

The question posed was not for obvious reasons, like, “Why’d you hijack your own paycheck?”


I questioned my sanity because, the very second the big boss hoss fired me… I felt RELIEF wash over me like a warm blanket on a frigid night.


Same reason I dropped the mic and sprinted for the hills from the hallowed halls of UPS.

Of course, at the time, I thought (as well as everyone around me) I was bat shyt crazy!

Was I broken inside?

That uneasy, anxious, gnawing feeling… has always existed… deep down in the cockles of my soul. A thirst for something. But, what is it?

A feeling that can only be understood by someone like you. Yes you! Cause you “feel” it too.

Never fitting in. Always questioning “the way it’s always been done”. Never accepting the status quo or the herd mentality.

This overarching umbrella-esque feeling is why you and me signed up for this business in the first place.

Tomorrow, I’ll share with you the rest of the Spiegel “you’re fired” debacle. The reason I pick-pocketed my own check…

Along with the ONE word that creates (and instigates) all of this subconscious angst and drive and fire in our lives. (You and me)

This one word is why you’re here today enjoying the painful fruits of my real estate labor.

When the baby tumbles out and we smack him on the arse – there’s only one name to give him!

… and that name is…

See ya tomorrow my friend!

Bart “You’re Fired!” Vickrey

P.S. If you ever want to join me in the soon to be “Greatest Real Estate Agent Membership in the World!” – then come on in, things are about to get very interesting. Click Here to check it out.

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