Alec Baldwin tells us that "it takes brass balls to sell real estate." What then does it take to quit a respectable, comfortable, relatively well-paying job to move to the country's most expensive city without job or home to pursue a career in what is widely considered an industry in its final death throes? An extra chromosome? A few missing brain cells? Both valid answers.
These two would probably tell me that I'm nuts. Most people I've told about the plunge, however, have not only been supportive, but have implored me not to look back. At least one (I believe) has been drawn into a premature mid-life crisis.
Perhaps, I'll be peniless and lying in a gutter or, even worse, on the couch in my parent's basement in a few short months. Perhaps, I won't. Either way, at least I'll have given it a shot.
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