Today I was biking back home when my neighbor stopped me.

“¿a qué te dedicas?” (a more polite form of what do you do for a living).
“I work on the computer”, I answered.
“I have a computer and I don’t know how to write the at symbol, and I would like to clean it from viruses”, she said.
“Is it a Mac or a Windows?”, which is my exit strategy when people need help with their computer.
“A Windows”, she answered.
“Oh, I don’t know much about Windows. But I have a cousin who knows them inside out. I can tell him about it and I’ll get back to you”.

I pinged my cousin to have lunch with him. He wanted me to pick up a roasted chicken for him to have lunch, and I was concerned because he’s not very proactive about paying his part of lunch. I’m beyond a tight budget: the chicken would cost 50% of my entire capital at this moment. I bought it anyways.

Over lunch I explained that I had a neighbor who needed an easy maintenance task, but as I was explaining the situation to him I realized this is exactly the kind of easy money I should be seeking at this time. Instead of offering the job to him, I asked him what malware removal tool he recommended.

How was it that I couldn’t see this opportunity that was in plain sight! It is the ego: computer maintenance jobs are menial tasks for which I am overqualified. I am a computer pilot, not the maintenance dude. I don’t run software, I create it.

What nonsense! I am what the circumstances of life ask from me. I am a gardener when I walk into my garden. I am a brother when I am with my sister. I am writer when I sit down to write this work log. I am a computer repair technician when I need to make a quick buck.

And so tomorrow I’ll tell my neighbor I can repair her computer.