I saved everything. Every paycheck went straight to debt or savings. No spending on anything unnecessary, because there was nowhere to spend it anyway.
Four months of living like that, and I had knocked out $40,000 in debt and built a savings cushion I had never had before.
When the rotation ended and I flew back to civilization, I didn't go to Denver. The apartment held nothing I needed, and Presley had made it clear through mutual friends that she didn't want to see me.
Instead, I flew to Iceland. Spent a week seeing the Northern Lights, hiking glaciers, sitting in hot springs, and thinking about absolutely nothing related to construction or relationships or money. Just existed in a place where the landscape was more extreme than anything humans had built.
That week taught me something important. The money wasn't just about financial freedom. It was about the freedom to stand in a place most people only saw in photographs and not worry about whether I could afford to be there.
18 months into the contract, I have completed six rotations. Each one follows the same pattern. Four months of focused work in extreme conditions, 1 month of intentional living in places I choose deliberately.
I have watched the Northern Lights from three different countries. Climbed Mount Kilimanjaro during one off rotation. Spent 3 weeks in Japan, taking my time with the culture instead of rushing through tourist sites. Hiked sections of the Inca Trail. Learned to scuba dive in Indonesia.
Every friend I made during these trips had something in common. They had chosen to prioritize experiences over conventional stability.
The Australian lawyer I met in Tanzania was taking a sabbatical to work on conservation projects. The Norwegian engineer I hiked with in Peru had structured his career around contracts that gave him months off between jobs. The Canadian teacher I met in Japan spent her summers traveling and her school years saving money for the next adventure.
None of them thought I was weird or cold or calculating for ending a relationship over an ultimatum. They understood immediately that Presley's position wasn't about missing me. It was about wanting to control my choices through emotional leverage.
Back in Denver, the apartment lease had ended. I kept a storage unit with my remaining possessions but maintained no permanent address. I was building a life that didn't require one.
My debt disappeared completely. Student loans, credit cards, everything. After 14 months, I reached a net worth of zero, which felt better than any amount of money I had ever earned before.