The die is cast: I will soon join my wife in pretirement. I gave my two weeks notice. Good timing, too, as downsizing abounds at my poorly run employer, confusion reigns, budgets are cut while goals increase. Our VP is a nice person but an habitual “yes person” who never misses an opportunity to pile new work on our team regardless of the old work when it suits her to look agreeable in a meeting to accept any new funding request someone dreams up. We are all ground down because she can’t prioritize. On top of it all, because I voluntarily made myself available for any restructuring plan that was emerging, my manager and the automatons in Human Resources decided I had verbally resigned, therefore disqualifying myself from the severance that 42 other people received. Oh well, I’ll be done soon with my last “At-Will Employer”. Most importantly for me, I have a plan.
What is my reaction to this turn of events? Some understandable episodes of anger, yes, followed by relief, soothed by gratitude for my past self who saved and invested. The author JL Collins advocates the power of FU money. Boy, am I glad I have some.
So, now it’s a glacial wait until I’m done. I plan a cat and mouse game for the next ten business days. They are only pretending to pay me, so I will pretend to work. My motivations now are to leave gracefully, wrap things up reasonably well for the poor colleague who is about to receive all of my work since my position will be eliminated, and ensure that I will have a very strong reference from my boss or others should I fail at Pretirement and find myself around a big rectangular table selling my talents to strangers once more. Brrrrr…..I shudder at the thought.
So, I’m stepping off the cliff at age 54. We have an appointment with our financial advisor next week and the primary question will be, “Hey, Michael, Just how little do we have to earn now?”