This is my journal entry from December 5, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I had a call with Blockchain Pill first thing this morning at 8:00 a.m., and we ended up talking for three full hours. I felt genuinely honored that he wanted to hear every part of my story—everything from the divorce to my entire journey as a content creator, my thoughts on ICP, my books, and where I see myself going next. There’s easily enough material from that conversation for him to release at least four videos on his channel, which is meaningful because a lot of the people who used to follow me can now follow him. Talking with him gave me real clarity about content creation going forward, and that clarity feels like a breakthrough.
I’m completely happy to talk with another content creator on Zoom, especially someone with an existing audience. What I’m no longer interested in—or set up to do—is making videos on my own channels. That chapter is closed. I can still have my face and my story online through interviews and conversations like this, but I can’t be the one producing and uploading videos myself anymore. That boundary feels solid and healthy. With books, on the other hand, I can do this entirely on my own. Writing and dictating books like this is something I enjoy deeply, something that works long-term, and something I can sustain. What I don’t do well anymore is the constant grind of creating and distributing video content.
The idea that feels right is using interviews like this to talk about my books and let that drive sales naturally. If even a small number of people start buying my books and become repeat readers, that could turn into a meaningful stream of passive income over time. Especially since I’m dictating constantly, there would always be new books for them to buy. This format feels perfect for the people who used to watch me on YouTube—familiar, personal, but without me having to run my own channels.
After the call wrapped up, my friend an older friend—who’s supposed to come over to work on his book—let me know he couldn’t make it today, and we rescheduled. That ended up working out just fine, because I was fired up and ready to go look at apartments downtown. I talked with my ex-wife on the phone, and she agreed that a downtown apartment sounded like a great move for me. I’d be close to the kids’ school, close enough to her, but far enough away to have my own life. Plus, I’d have access to everything downtown offers. With that confirmation, I was ready to take immediate action.
I jumped in the car and toured several apartments back-to-back in the Edge District. I started with 930 Central, also known as Central Flats. It’s one of the more affordable options in the area, around $2,000 a month. I looked at it, and it was fine—nothing wrong with it—but I wasn’t feeling it. I knew I needed to see more. From there, I went across the street to Viv, a brand-new apartment complex that only started moving people in about a month ago. I toured a studio apartment on the fifteenth floor, and the view was absolutely incredible. The balcony alone was tempting.
But the moment I walked inside, the space felt tiny. My brain immediately started trying to solve impossible puzzles. How would I stay here overnight with the kids? How would I have a girl over and still make this work if the kids were around? Even something simple like the life coach coming over on Wednesday to work—would there be enough room for a bed, a desk, and a setup to record? I loved the view. I loved the balcony. But the reality of the space didn’t quite work. To upgrade to a one-bedroom, I’d be looking at over $3,000 a month.
A leasing agent told me my total cost to live at Viv would be around $2,900 a month. Hearing that number made me pause hard. If I’m paying $2,900 a month, I might as well rent a house somewhere. Paying that much for an apartment feels insane. It immediately made me think about Michigan, where I could have an apartment almost this nice for less than half the price. Of course, this isn’t Michigan. And that reality is part of the equation now, whether I like it or not.
I really enjoyed walking around downtown and taking everything in—the streets, the buildings, the people, the general energy. I noticed there’s a Publix just a couple of blocks away, and Sun State Yoga is only about five blocks from Viv. From a pure location standpoint, it’s excellent. It feels alive and walkable in a way that immediately appeals to me. After wandering around a bit, I walked down to Camden Apartments and took a tour there with a leasing agent. Coming straight from Viv, though, Camden felt underwhelming. Even though Viv was basically a ghost town—with hardly anyone moved in yet, despite a lot of units being reserved and something like 212 apartments still available, which looks like most of the building—it still felt more exciting. There was something kind of cool about the idea of leasing at Viv and essentially having the building to myself for a while.
Camden, on the other hand, looked mostly full. There were several hot girls hanging around outside, just like at Central Flats, but I still wasn’t feeling it. It’s only about seven years older than Viv, but it already feels dated by comparison, and the cost is almost the same. After Camden, I walked a couple more blocks and toured Windsor. The leasing agent showed me multiple units. I really wanted something on the top floor for the view, but they didn’t have anything available up there. She showed me both a studio and a one-bedroom. The moment I walked into the one-bedroom, my immediate thought was, yes—this is the kind of space I actually need. Not that closet masquerading as a studio at Viv.
Standing there, I kept thinking that if I could somehow mash together the best parts of all these places—the view from Viv, the space from Windsor, the location convenience—it might actually work. But again, the cost kept snapping me back to reality. Even here, where it was slightly cheaper, I was still in the range where I could rent a whole damn house for about the same price as apartment living. That’s hard to ignore.
I also found myself reflecting on the negative reviews I’d read before touring these places. Viv is brand new, so it doesn’t have much of a review history yet. But most of the other complexes are loaded with one-star reviews describing everything from dog shit in the elevators to elevators being broken constantly, maintenance requests going unaddressed for months, surprise fees slapped on residents when they move out, and all kinds of other nonsense. Sure, some of those reviews are probably written by toxic, pissed-off people who are exaggerating. But one of the negative reviews I read was written by a woman I actually know from Toastmasters. And if that’s her experience, then there’s definitely some truth in it.
That brought up a bigger concern: getting locked into a lease where you don’t even fully understand what the real cost will be, where fees magically appear later, where you’re restricted in which internet provider you can use. Viv actually handled that part well—you can choose either Spectrum or Frontier, which is great. Most of the other complexes force you into one option. I already have Frontier, and I want to keep it. It’s $30 a month. It irrationally pisses me off to think about paying $80 a month for some bundled TV and cable bullshit when I already have cheap internet, or canceling a Frontier promo and losing money just to comply with an apartment’s setup.
At that point, I started seriously asking myself how the hell I’d even afford these places long term. I know the numbers. I’ve talked to ChatGPT about it. I have enough money to comfortably cover the next several months, and I’ve got 0% interest credit cards. I realistically have at least six months of runway without needing to make a dollar. But that runway shrinks fast as rent goes up. And after touring everything, the only place I genuinely want to live is Viv—and the space there is just too damn small. The one-bedroom units don’t have the same view and start at over $3,000 a month base rent. By the time everything’s added up, I’d be looking at $3,400 or $3,500 a month.
Then there’s the parking garage and the elevators. Even if everything works perfectly, I’m a time Nazi. If it takes five minutes to get from my apartment door, down the elevator, and out to the parking garage, that’s five extra minutes each way. That’s ten minutes on every single round trip I make. Multiply that out over a day, a week, a month, and it starts to feel insane. As Scarface might say—or maybe someone else—this is fucking depressing. Either way, yeah. That’s not going to work.
At the same time, I honestly don’t know what else to do right now. What I do know is that I’m really excited about having an overnight with my son tonight. He has soccer, and I go to my 444 AA meeting. I thought the meeting was going to conflict with his soccer, but afterward my ex-wife calls me and lets me know it actually didn’t. At the meeting, there’s a couple who recently moved to the area. The wild part is that they got sober around the same time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before—a couple who found recovery together like that.
I ask them to tell me their dating story in detail, because I’m genuinely trying to figure out how to date properly in AA without turning into a pickup artist, burning bridges, or hooking up with every girl in the rooms. I want to know how to look for something real. They tell me their story, and it’s beautiful. It actually gives me hope. I ask to exchange numbers so I can recommend good meetings to them while they’re down here, and the woman offers her number right away. It all feels clean and appropriate, which I appreciate.
After the meeting, I go home and eat a big salad. My ex-wife calls and tells me my son’s soccer actually started later than we both thought, which sucks because it means I missed it. Still, I’m able to pick my son up and have the overnight with him at my house. When it’s time to leave my ex-wife’s place, he cries for about ten minutes. I know part of it is that he’s tired, and part of it is the transition. I also know that once we get going, he’ll be fine. I mostly stay quiet and let my ex-wife hug him and comfort him. Eventually, he’s ready. We walk down to my place together.
Once we’re home, everything settles. He loves my shower head—the one with double the water flow that most shower heads have—and that alone seems to improve his mood significantly. We get ready for bed and end up lying down a little after 9:00 p.m., which is slightly late for him and slightly early for me. As I’m lying there, drifting toward sleep, my mind keeps circling back to the same thought: I want that apartment at Viv. I want it. I want it. I want it. I seriously consider getting up and applying for it right then.
But I don’t. I know myself well enough to pause. Sometimes I get extremely excited about something and the excitement burns off quickly. Other times, the excitement sticks around and turns into a clear, grounded yes. I need to sleep on this and give my brain time to process everything. I did a lot today. Literally yesterday, I was planning to live in South Tampa. Today, I toured four downtown apartment complexes and mentally scrapped an entire relocation plan.
One thing my sponsor in AA consistently points out is how much I take action. That’s one of my strengths. At the same time, the downside is that I can take too much action too quickly and end up committing to something that isn’t quite right or that puts me in over my head. Tonight feels like a moment to slow down instead of push forward. I’m going to sleep, think about all of this tomorrow, and see what still feels true after I’ve had some rest.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.