Last Saturday I was sitting in a warehouse filled with inflatable bounce houses that my daughter and her classmates were tumbling through. Me and the other parents watched from a row of cheap plastic yard chairs; whoever set this place up was a fucking genius.
They had a bunch of unused warehouse space, and set this simple place up so us parents could sit, relax, and keep an eye on our kids while expending a minimal amount of our finite energy. Meanwhile, the kiddos were burning through their nearly infinite amount of sugar filled crazy, in a giant padded environment which reduced the severity of the inevitable injuries.
Later we’d be shuffled over to a room with some plastic folding tables and chairs. The kids would get served cheap pizza, cake, and sing happy birthday to one of their classmates. The carb dump would mitigate the sugar, and our kids would be easily carried off to their respective car seats in a near coma state. The ride home would be blissfully quiet, and bedtime would be without drama.
Whoever runs that warehouse deserves every dollar they make.
One of the parents I’d just met remarked that we’d be probably running into each other for at least the next 14 years. Our kids are both 4, we live in the same small town, and our kids will be going to the same schools for the foreseeable future. As he ran off to chase his daughter (she was making a run for it), I thought to myself, “I could be in a five-star hotel in Vienna* right now. ” And then I thought, “I made the right choice-I’d much rather be here.”
A few days before some 4-year-old’s birthday party was held in a nameless industrial park, my boss called me. “One of our clients wants to go to Vienna for the weekend. Gonna to take the private jet. You want to go? Will be the standard package (5-star accommodations, limo service, michelin food, all of which I’ll be partaking in as I keep the client safe). Day rate for pay plus per diem, make a few thousand for a few days work.” I didn’t even think when I answered, “Sorry man, promised my daughter I’d take her to a birthday party this weekend.”
After I hung up, of course I thought about the alternate life in which I did go to Vienna. I like the client, would be fun. Haven’t spent much time there and it’s on my list of places to explore. Plus traveling for work is in some ways more enjoyable. I get to work with the local Police and Security apparatus, so I usually end up getting more of a local perspective.
But then, I keep my promises. And in general, I err on the side of working less when given the choice. Plus in a few weeks I’ll be working for seven days straight, escorting a client as they traipse around on a pre-planned work trip. Better to enjoy the time at home, even while it greatly outweighs the time I’m gone. Also much easier for the family to accept my absence when it’s been on the calendar for months.
You know what I didn’t even think about, until I sat down to write this? The few thousand dollars I didn’t make. What the hell am I going to do with more money, anyways? I guess buy a Tesla, but that doesn’t seem to make anyone happier.
There is of course another alternate universe, where I don’t get to choose. Where I need the money, and I have to explain to my 4-year-old why I won’t be taking her to that party. Just my guess, but I’m betting she wouldn’t be very understanding. Where I go to Vienna, and the whole trip is colored by my regret in breaking my word.
That universe sucks.
As you can see, this another one of those “thank god I’m FI” posts. I’ll just keep banging that deprivation-is-sometimes-worth-it drum, and count my lucky stars that I found this FI stuff all those years ago. Repeat some platitude about if you’re going through hell, keep going. You know the drill by now.
But why repeat more of the same? Well, I’m busy with grad school for one, so my desire to spend even more time writing is not super high. But then there’s another FI book launch going, and I figured it was time to shout my tiny voice into the void once more.
My consumption of FI content (and production thereof) has waned, but some podcasts in my feed grabbed my attention. Apparently Jordan Grumet wrote another book. I really liked his last one, and though Die With Zero was good, I liked Grumet’s writing better. So when I saw that he was on the podcast circuit hawking his new work, I had to listen.
After listening to one of Jordan’s interviews, I’ll for sure check out his new book when it hits my library. I like his stuff, and I’m sure his latest will be wonderful. That said, I could see if me from ten years ago was listening to a podcast promoting The Purpose Code, old me might throw up his hands and ask what the hell is the point of all the saving/investing he’s doing. Does he just need to find his purpose or something, money be damned?
Given, that was me from ten years ago. I’ve sorta evolved. But me from ten years ago was chronically sleep deprived, stressed to the gills, and didn’t have time to deeply think about much outside trying to not die. That me was desperately hanging onto the dream that if I saved enough money I could get the hell out of a job which I loved, gave me great purpose, and was fucking killing me.
Let’s give old me some credit; maybe he would have actually read the book, realized the nuance, and gotten a lot out of it. If he’d gotten more than two hours of sleep the night before he heard that interview, that might have happened. So, like…even money there.
I’m guessing there’s someone out there who is currently in my old shoes. They’re wondering if this FI stuff is even worth it if not working just means existential malaise. Especially since there’s like 37 varieties of FI right now, with some basically not that far away from saving 15% and leaving work just shy of standard retirement age.
So I feel the need to poke my head up once again, and say: it’s worth it. Money ain’t gonna make you happy. Freedom is a good start though. Yeah, sure; you get a job you love you’ll never work a day in your life. Until you don’t love that job anymore. Or can’t physically/mentally do it any more. Work that saving side of the equation, and make work optional. That shit is legit. Then you can hang out in a random warehouse, watch your daughter scream her head off with glee, and say no to Vienna trips.
*Wasn’t actually Vienna. Anonymity, security…blah, blah, blah.
Welcome back. How dare you FI people disappear from writing as you have better things to do.
I have been doing some work travel lately. It’s been to nice places but what I have realized is I don’t get anything out of it. I miss my people, I miss my routine, I miss my day to day life. It really isn’t about where you are but who you’re with.
I’ve always thought as people get older they travel less due to health. I am beginning to realize that being somewhere new or instragrammie just doesn’t matter as much. As people get older they just come to this conclusion more.
End of June I join the retiree world. My OMY will be done. I give my notice after coming back from Econome
Hahaha! Good to hear from you Vader, and so glad you’re about to embark on your new adventure of post-work life. Can’t wait to hear more about it. I hope you let us peak at some of your thoughts about it, as I bet they’d help a lot of people on this path.
I hear you about the travel; it truly is about who you’re with. I’m spoiled; most of my work trips are with friends I rarely see because they’re working full time. It’s more like hanging out with friends while doing something challenging and occasionally difficult. If I was traveling by myself, or with people I could care less about, it would be a different story. Good thing you won’t have to be doing that anymore!
I have written about my almost two year journey. That I enjoy. 100 or so articles just ready to go. Setting up the WordPress site to look the way I want, that I feel like Bambi on ice.
I figured it will be one of the first things I do when I get to the finish line. Either that or I will find the average 12 year old to figure out what I am doing wrong to get wordpress to work for me the way I want it too
Looking forward to reading it all! Hope you don’t stress too much about the WordPress; as long as we can read it I don’t think anyone will care as long as they can read it. My blog is pretty simple, and I’m just running one of the standard themes. People still seem to show up despite the lack of glam. Perfect is the enemy of good and all that, especially when it comes to writing.
Preach, JSD! I’m not at the point where I can say “You know what I didn’t even think about, until I sat down to write this? The few thousand dollars I didn’t make.” But I’m happily at the point where I’ll turn down that lucrative work when it comes my way if I don’t wanna do it. Less than five years ago, that’d have been inconceivable.
That’s a great spot to be at! Often I feel the need to pinch myself;pre-FI me would have gone into convulsions at passing up money. It’s truly a very fortunate place to be at. Which I guess is why we keep writing about this stuff; I just wish more people could find the freedom we do.
Gave the finger to #TheMan in 2018. Since then, I’ve thought, on and off, about getting a part time job, just for fun. If I manage to put on particularly thick rose coloured glasses that get me over the “you’ll be re-entering the misogynist, ageism cesspool again” obstacle, my next thought is “but it will throw me into a higher tax bracket!”. And poof, my carefully constructed tax strategy crumples away….
Naw, there is no job on this planet that can entice me to go back to work.