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|Subject: A Drudge No More||Date: 1/22/2004 12:26 AM|
|Author: tmeri||Number: 145488 of 844323|
I did it. I quit my job and am blissfully unemployed.
I had wanted to work until age 55, at which time I would have had a very rosy financial picture. But my job had become so dreadful that I couldn't continue, and at the end, I could barely work an additional day. 55 is too many years away, and I looked around and found nothing else in the company I would have been willing to do for that long. I really longed to be layed off, but that never worked out, so I decided to FIRE myself.
Once the decision was made I started getting my ducks in a row. I had much to investigate in order to know what was coming and what decisions I'd be faced with. I had financial transactions to make. I re-financed my house. I spoke with an ex-employee from HR to find out whether my boss would be told if I began to make the necessary inquiries with HR about my post-career benefits.
Where I worked, it has sometimes been the case that an employee who quits is immediately escorted to the door. No one had quit in a very long time unless they were eligible to retire or had been layed off/fired. Everyone was hunkered down; most felt it was not a good time to jump ship in the current economic climate. So I didn't know what to expect.
Out of concern for being walked to the door immediately, I decided to clear my office of the last of my personal effects before telling my boss. I had to do this on a Sunday, as I didn't want to provoke any questions from co-workers. As I went through years of accumulation, I remember thinking that I ought to have more emotion about the task. But the only emotion I had was resentment at being at work once again on a SUNDAY! I had worked too many 7-day weeks, far too many times until 3AM, 4AM, and even later. I was completely burned out.
Was I sorry to be ending my career? Not in the least. I had absolutely no regret. I knew I would not miss it at all. The whole environment, in every way, had become so bad that there was very little good left to miss.
Except for some people.
A few days before telling my boss, I told my closest coworker, because I didn't want him to find out from anyone else. I knew it was going to be hard, and I had tried to perpare myself emotionally for it, but it was far more wrenching than I expected.
I said, "I know this is going to be very hard for you to hear. I'm sorry to have to tell you that I'm leaving the company."
"No, no, tmeri, no. I cannot accept this. No. Please don't leave me," he wailed. I told him I had to go. "Why? Why do you have to leave? I need you."
It would have hurt me less if he had ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
A few days later I informed management of my impending departure. It turned out that my boss did not walk me to the door when I told him, but I had every single personal item (keys, lunch bag, wallet, etc.) either with me or locked in the car the moment I told him. Though I didn't need to be, I was prepared never to return to my desk. Not knowing what would happen made the event far more stressful than it needed to be.
I dreaded telling the rest of my coworkers, because I knew many of them were counting on me to be there for certain projects. They did not know I had been making plans for years to leave, so it came as a surprise.
Without asking, they knew why I was leaving, because the job is intolerable to most of them, but they were concerned about my financial welfare.
One coworker inquired, "Are you taking another job?"
I responded, "Maybe when my savings run out."
He asked, "How long will your savings last?"
I said, "Another 30 or 40 years, I think."
Another friend sat with me a day or so later and asked me, "You won the lottery?"
And I thought about Seattle Pioneer, and how often he advises people to invest their dimes and nickels instead of buying lottery tickets. He says the odds of winning are much better. And that's exactly what I've been doing, and you know, in a way, I did win the lottery. Many people have been buying lottery tickets longer than I've b