The New Salary is Here: Soon, Digital Nomads Will Out-Earn the Average Professional—And Be a Lot Happier, Too
Summer meadows.Queen Anne’s lace. Picnic blankets made of blue and white gingham. A laughing four-year-old boy (so long as the fucker is laughing). A skinny footpath leading down to the ocean. Cherry cordial. Flirty jokes. Tattooed forearms. Fresh, crisp corn on the cob.Thick farm-churned butter.And time. So much time. Life moves so much slower here, like it’s actually yours to spend. Doesn’t that sound fantastic? I think that sounds fantastic—even though I don’t have a kid nor tattooed forearms, and I’ve somehow made it to thirty-seven without