Off to Be the Wizard Read Online Free PDF

Martin was carrying a cardboard box full of his belongings out to the car. Quitting wasn’t nearly as difficult as he’d imagined.
    When his supervisor asked why he was going, Martin said, “I’d rather do something that makes me happy.”
    His former supervisor smiled the smile equivalent of a middle finger. “Well, with an attitude like that, we don’t want you.”
    His plan was already destroyed, but Martin saw it was a stupid plan. Keep doing something that made him miserable so he could fit in with the miserable people. What he should have tried to do was find some happy people to fit in with. Maybe he could go back to school. He’d hated college so much that he dropped out, but that was when he believed his future was riding on it. Maybe now that he knew it was meaningless he’d enjoy it.
    When he returned to his apartment, he saw it as if for the first time. White stucco walls and a beige carpet. If you looked at the floor in broad daylight, you could see the traffic pattern. Faint wear tracks traced the routes from the bed to the bathroom to the kitchen to the computer to the couch.
    It was time for a lifestyle upgrade. He knew it wasn’t necessary, but on a deeper level he knew he needed it. He’d been good, hadn’t he? He’d known about the file for almost a week and he hadn’t done anything with it to benefit himself. Yes, he had put eight thousand dollars into his bank account, but he could argue that he earned that money by discovering the means to procure it. Besides, he already had that money. Even if getting it was wrong, spending it now wasn’t. It was just the logical conclusion of an act he did days ago. In a sense, it was already done. He made a quick mental list of things he wanted to replace. He figured eight thousand dollars would go pretty far.
    A day later he reflected that it had gone pretty far. All the way to the checkout line at IKEA. He had carefully selected his purchases to stay under his eight thousand dollar budget, and had just managed it. Looking at the pile of flat-pack, he knew he couldn’t carry it home in his car. He pulled out his phone, looked at his now single-digit bank balance, adjusted it up to five thousand dollars, and went to rent a truck.
    By five p.m., his new furniture was in his apartment waiting for assembly. His old furniture was sitting on the pavement behind a thrift store. The truck was returned to the rental agency. Martin settled in for a night of serious furniture assembling. He went to the closet and pulled out Her First Tool Kit. He looked at it in his hand.
    By six p.m. Martin was back with his new tool kit, a massive metal case full of sockets, wrenches, screwdrivers, even a saw. He also had a drill he could use to drive screws.
    As he assembled the furniture, he mused that unlimited money was like a superpower. It allowed one to do almost anything. Hire a plane to make you fly. Hire a truck to carry heavy things. Hire doctors to keep you healthy. Hire mercenaries to vanquish foes. You could pay someone to do anything, and at the end of the day, you were responsible for having gotten it done.
    He still hadn’t decided what to do with his life. He wanted it to be something he could be proud of. Maybe he’d create a comic book. Hire a writer to flesh out his ideas. Hire an artist to draw it. “Rich Man: He pays people to serve justice.” It was an idea.
    By eleven that night he was exhausted, and he slept without assistance for the first time in a week. The next morning he arranged his new furniture. He started installing his computer on his new desk. He put the 18-inch monitor on the desktop. He put the dusty CPU tower under the desk. He started to hook up the tangle of wires, then he laughed at himself for being so stupid.
    The closest electronics store opened at eleven. At ten past he was walking to his car with a new high-end, all-in-one computer that looked like a huge monitor with a keyboard attached. Soon, it was hooked up and purring like