August Guidry is a man.
August Guidry hates writing about himself, especially in the third person.
I grew up in New Orleans. I have a BBA and an MBA from Loyola University New Orleans. I now clean concrete for a living. I’ve made my peace with the dissonance; you’re welcome to enjoy it too.
My working life has been a series of chapters that don’t obviously connect: landscaping, selling cameras, corporate training for a tire company that required me to travel so much I started to forget what staying home felt like, running a pipelining company that failed — though I got my money back and left with no debt, which I choose to count as a win and a very expensive education. These days I pressure wash with my dad. I joined his company out of pure desperation — I needed a job badly — and once I was in, I couldn’t not notice how much of the business was running on instinct instead of systems. So I fixed that. I took what I’d learned managing training programs at a tire company and pointed it at pricing, quoting, and scheduling for a pressure washing outfit, which turned out to work embarrassingly well: I more than doubled his revenue in my first year, and the year isn’t even over. I make more money and have more freedom than I did wearing a badge, and there’s a lot more to build.
In late September 2024, after a stretch of the worst months of my life, I set out to hike 1,000 miles clockwise around Japan’s smallest main island, seeking wisdom from strangers and Kobo Daishi, with whom I am on a first-name basis now. It remains the best decision I’ve made under duress, and I’d make it again.
Outside of work I play guitar, watercolor, and read. My reading has drifted lately from the usual science fiction into stuff that offers less comfortable commentary on psychology and society. My watercolors are decent at landscapes, getting better at animals, and still bad at humans.
This site is where I think out loud. It has no particular theme. The FAQ probably answers whatever question brought you here.