Goodbye to the Security Blanket: Twenty Years of Work, and What Comes Next

That’s me circa 2010 dressed up like pizza waving to motorists on Highway 65 in Columbia Heights, Minnesota.

For those of you who’ve been following me on Substack these past nine months, I have big news: I’ve officially resigned from my position as General Manager of Lake Harriet Pizza, effective December 31, 2025.

So yes—let’s celebrate that! 🎉

As many of you know, I am the owner and publisher of History Through Fiction, a small but growing indie press. To make ends meet, I’ve also been working full time at the pizza restaurant. I love the work, but it’s become harder and harder to give both roles the attention and integrity they deserve. And while walking away from a fixed income is scary, the time has come to take the leap—to move forward without the safety net.

Before I talk about what’s next, I need to reflect. This is mostly for me: a reminder, in writing, of how much ground I’ve covered to finally be in a place where I can work for myself—not some of the time, but all of the time.

Since earning my BA in 2005 and my MA in 2007, I’ve been on a winding, uncertain road. I tried again and again to land work tied to my education—both in history and in writing—but those doors stayed shut. Instead, I built a career from scratch, taking job after job to support my goals. Many were low-paying, exhausting, or mind-numbing, and all of them shaped me. Here are just a few:

• 2005 – Herberger’s Receiving Department
  During my first semester in grad school, I unloaded semi-trucks at 5 a.m., stacked boxes, opened cartons, and sent racks of merchandise to the floor. My shifts stretched until noon, and then I stumbled half-asleep into afternoon lectures, fighting to keep my eyes open.

• 2007–2010 – Parking Lot Attendant
  My first job after grad school: checking parking permits at a local high school. Twice a day, I walked the lot, clipboard in hand, scanning windshields. The rest of the time? Endless hours of nothing—waiting, supervising, watching the clock crawl. I was shocked by how unstimulating it was.

• 2012 – Papa John’s, Washington, D.C.
  While interning at the Holocaust Memorial Museum, I worked nights at Papa John’s downtown. It was the busiest store I’d ever seen. After the museum, I’d clock in around 5 p.m. and often work until 3 a.m. When the bars closed, crowds or people called us, and we were slammed until nearly dawn. Some nights I didn’t leave until 4:30 a.m. I’ll never forget the walks home, though I really enjoyed the quiet, empty streets of D.C.—the stillness after chaos.

  

  Papa Johns in Washington DC. That’s Porsha at the register, Milton looking back, and the arm you see in the background is Tommy.

• 2012 - Soccer Shots
  After completing my internship at the Holocaust Museum, I continued living in DC as the manager of a corner bodega. In addition to that, I worked as a Soccer Shots instructor in northern Virginia. This involved going to pre-schools to give the kids 30 minutes introductory lessons on how to play soccer. Corralling the kids and keeping them engaging was a nightmare. It was far more challenging than any manual labor I’ve ever done, that’s for sure.

• 2015–2016 – Vermont Ski Resort Pizza Chef
  A seasonal job that came with “employee housing”—a crumbling old hotel with no internet. My roommate was a man in his sixties who liked to get high and fall asleep watching NCIS reruns on the USA Network. Nights stretched on with the sound of canned laughter and crime dramas. Eventually I found another place, but it was an experience I won’t forget.

  

  My fellow cooks at the restaurant in Vermont.

• 2017 – Jimmy John’s + BiteSquad
  Sunday mornings started at 4:30 a.m. I baked bread, sliced meat, chopped vegetables, and ran the store until mid-afternoon. Then, after a short break, I logged on with BiteSquad, delivering food until late at night. Exhaustion piled on exhaustion, but I kept going.

• 2016–2023 – Special Education Paraprofessional
  At STEP and Coon Rapids High School, I worked with teenagers in need of extra support. Some students I connected with, but many resisted, checked out, or struggled in ways I couldn’t reach. The work was important, but the daily challenge left me drained, often questioning whether I was making any difference at all.

• 2017–2023 – Parkway Pizza Delivery Driver
  I loved the rhythm of driving deliveries, but the real grind came at the end of the night. The restaurant often had no dishwasher, so after my last run at 11 p.m., I’d come back to find mountains of dirty dishes stacked anywhere they’d fit. What should have been the end of my shift stretched into hours of scrubbing.

Looking back, it’s been twenty years of early mornings, late nights, and jobs that demanded more than they gave. I’m grateful for the health, the resilience, and the people I met along the way—but stepping away now feels monumental.

Of course, the leap isn’t simple. I’ll stay at Lake Harriet Pizza until the end of the year so my bosses can find and train a replacement and I can build a stronger foundation for my press. Until now, History Through Fiction has been about growth and reinvestment. Going forward, I need to focus on efficiency, sustainability, and profitability—how to provide real value to readers while paying myself and my contributors fairly.

Over the next few months, I’ll be sharing the process here: the strategy, the lessons, the setbacks, and the wins.

Thank you for being here with me. This step has been a long time coming, and I couldn’t do it without your support. And don’t tell anybody at Lake Harriet Pizza. They don’t know yet. Luckily, I don’t think they read Substack.

If you’ve ever made a leap like this—walking away from security into something unknown—I’d love to hear about it in the comments. And if you believe in the work I’m doing, the best way you can support me is by staying subscribed, sharing this post, or telling a friend about History Through Fiction. Every bit of encouragement makes this next stage possible.