Why I would love to lose my job

May 9, 2019 24 By Caveman

OK I’m going to put up front that I think that I’m going to come across as a bit of a tool in this post. More than a bit actually. Today is all about why I would really like to lose my job.

I know. What a privileged, oblivious, idiot.

For most people losing their job is an unequivocally bad thing.  Some people will be going through this right now and I’m really, really not trying to make light of what you’re going through.

I’ve been there.

It’s a story for another time but I’ve been made redundant in the past. When you lose your job not only do you have to deal with the immediate financial implications but there’s also a worry about how future employers will look at it. At the same time there is the impact on your self-worth and self-belief. An FU fund can’t solve all of that.

But, nonetheless, that’s how I feel.  Right now, I would love it if I lost my job. This post is about why.

What do I mean when I talk about losing my job?

It’s worth being clear about what I mean when I talk about losing by job. I wouldn’t want to lose my job for ‘bad’ reasons. So I wouldn’t want to lose my job because my firm was going under and I wouldn’t want to be fired due to incompetence or misconduct.

When I talk about wanting to lose my job I mean it in the way that happens to a lot of us. I want my company to reorganise for whatever reason and I want my role to be made redundant. Work out my notice period take the redundancy payment and walk away with a handshake. That’s my dream scenario.

I’m not looking for the drama and angst of a company going under (I’ve been there) or the horror of being fired for misconduct (I’ve not been there but I’ve seen it happen more than once. Horrible for everyone involved).

No. I’m thinking a nice orderly redundancy process, the likes of which is happening in dozens of companies every day.

Now before people get up in my face about getting Financial Samurai’s book about engineering a layoff. Yes, yes, yes. I know all about that. That’s not where I’m at.

I want to lose my job: I just don't want to be there

I just don’t want to be there

Where me and my job are at in our relationship: It’s not me or you, but I want to move out

To be clear I am absolutely doing my job. And, while it’s presumptuous of me to say so, I reckon I’m doing it well. Obviously I’m making sure that no balls are being dropped, I mean that’s the bare minimum right? But, even though I could get away with it, I’m doing more. I’m being proactive. Starting new things. Being my usual cheery self around the office. Contributing constructively in meetings.

From the outside I’m doing my job as well as I ever have.  My career conversations with my boss and my CEO are all about what they need to do to keep and develop me, not about concerns with my performance.

It’s not even that I dislike my job. Quite the opposite, I quite enjoy it. When I came back from holiday (did I mention that I went on holiday? I’m not sure I did) I wasn’t dreading having to go back to work. I was actually looking forward to finding out where a few of my projects had go to while I was away (obviously they had gone nowhere…but we live in hope).

I’m a bit underpaid for what I do, but not outrageously. I’m certainly not paid badly. Overall nothing I wouldn’t expect from staying at the same company for many years. More importantly I have a pretty good work life balance. That’s the positive from having been around for so long. I know what matters and what doesn’t so I prioritise. I work from home once a week and I don’t work long hours. The only downside is the commute, but I’ve optimised that over the years.

Let’s take stock. I’m doing well at work. I like my job. And, it’s not about money or hours.

What’s going on?

Why I don’t want a job

My problem is that I can see a better place. A better way. It’s been building for a while.

There are just so many other things that I would rather do besides working.

After I came back from holiday I wrote a bucket list. Well I started to write one anyway. I’ll write a whole post on it at some point, but the seed was planted when I did the last thought experiment. It then developed through the exchange that I had on Twitter with Route2FI, Victoria and Ryan that starts as below.

While I was away those seeds took root and since I came back it has flourished into a tree. To extend that metaphor too far, that tree is bearing fruit and it feels so close that if I close my eyes and take a deep breath I feel like I can almost smell it.

There’s one thing that blows away that vision when I open my eyes. Time. I don’t have enough time to do those things now. Even taking away the obvious point about needing time to be able to travel as much as I want, there are a large number of things that I do a little of now that I want to do a lot more of. Read, exercise, see friends to name a few. That’s the tip of my iceberg.

That’s why I don’t want to work anymore.

But what about the money?

In many ways I’m not saying anything revolutionary. Almost everyone would like to do more things they enjoy right? In fact that’s a lot of the thinking behind the whole Financial Independence movement. That’s the whole point of all this saving and investing. We’re trying to build a fund so that we can buy time.  So the thing is, if you lose you job you need money.

I’ve touched before on the fact that I don’t track my net worth and I don’t budget. The way I portrayed was: I don’t see the point. I’m too idle. There are too many major swing variable variables for it to make any sense.

Reflecting on that again that’s both true and an excuse. While I’m genuinely not interested in my overall net worth for itself I am interested in each element of it. House, retirement funds, non-restricted savings.

House

I don’t care what the value of my house is, but I very much care about the fact that I don’t have a mortgage on it anymore. I know that some will disagree. There is a very legitimate view that a house is an asset that can be sold, traded up/down etc. If you feel like that, how about this?

Think imputed rent. My house is the bucket of savings that will pay my rent for the rest of my life and it’s perfectly hedged. Yes it’s an asset, but it’s an asset that perfectly covers my rent. Therefore, unless I want to change where I live I just don’t need to think about it.

Pension

When I look at my retirement accounts I don’t care about what the actual value is. What I do care about though is that when I can draw it down it is likely to give me enough income to live at my ‘Comfortable FI’ level. That requires various assumptions but I’ve not been outrageously aggressive (I think). The bottom line though is that I’m not worried about it. I’m continuing to pay into it even though I don’t ‘need’ to. That means that each month that goes by I can make my assumptions even less aggressive. Essentially, when I retire, financially at least, I should be fine.

Non-restricted savings

Then there’s the rest. The problem. My blind spot. Non-restricted savings. That’s the place that I’m trying to give myself excuses not to look at. Those saving are what will bridge between today and my retirement fund. How do I pay my bills between now and then?

The maths is simple. What do I spend now? How many years between now and when I can access my pension. Multiply one by the other. That’s what I need in that fund.

It’s simple. But I’m not doing it.

Why don’t you just do the numbers numbnuts?

The obvious question that arises from this is: Why don’t I just run my numbers? When I know what my pot need to be start to save. When I’ve saved it up, quit. It’s not rocket science is it?

I’ve paid the price of feeling powerless, of feeling like a victim, in the past. I hated it and learning how to stop feeling, and acting, like a victim was one of the greatest epiphanies of my life. So why am I taking the victim’s route now?

The reason?

Fear.

“Fear is the mind-killer”

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Frank Herbert, Dune

I’m comfortable in my job and my life. Really comfortable. I enjoy my well paid, not very demanding job and I’m good at it. I take plenty of holiday. Why stop that sweet regular pay check?

Don’t be a fool. I can’t earn money if I’m not working my day job. Who do I think I am?

What if the markets tank? What happens if the kids ‘need’ to go to private school? What will I do if my parents ‘need’ residential care?

If I have all of this time in front of me then I’ll not actually do any of these things that I think I will. Why sit around watching Netflix all day?

The obvious answer to how to bridge the gap between now and when I can access my pension is to keep working. Duh! By any measure, retiring in my late 50s is early retirement. What’s my beef?

I’m happy as I am. I’m not close enough financially so I should look at it again in a few years. Don’t worry about it now.

Stop being selfish and greedy. Stop it.

So fear wins.

Fear is the mind killer.

And I do nothing.

I want to lose my job: "Fear is the mind killer"

“Fear is the mind killer”

Why I would love to lose my job

So what this comes down to is that I want someone to take the decision away from me.

I want someone to shake my hand and pass me a check before, very apologetically, taking my pass, laptop and phone away.

I want the speeches and the requests to connect on LinkedIn and the leaving card.

That all done with I want to be forced to think about my future.

To be forced to run my numbers.

To be forced to decide to apply for another job or to realise that I don’t need it.

I want to lose my job so that I don’t have to take responsibility for my own actions.

Where does that leave me?

Writing this down has been cathartic. If I was reading this on someone else’s blog I’d be exasperated by now. I know exactly what I would write in the comments.

I would tell them to stop playing the role of victim.  Don’t wait to lose your job, take control.

Just do them numbers. Take the first step. Doing the numbers doesn’t commit you to anything.

Don’t make a budget but just work out what you spent last month. Take a stab at what it means for a full year.

You know how many years it is ‘til you can draw you pension.

Multiply one number by the other.

Add up your non-pension savings. What’s the gap?

Pause. Just take a moment to look at the number. Does it scare you? Is it unattainable? If you just carry on with your automated savings when will you get there? Remember, each year you work is one less year that you have to fund out of savings.

So when do you get there? It’s before you draw your pension isn’t it? That means you can retire earlier than you thought.

Pause again. Longer this time. Live with that for a while.

Then start to play. If you want more of a cushion what does that look like? If you wanted to get there faster how could you do that?

No pressure. You don’t need to do anything. Just play with a spreadsheet.

Then, maybe, make some of those changes that would allow you to bring that date forward. Remember, nothing says that you have to quit at that point. You’re just giving yourself options.

One step at a time.

“I will face my fear…Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

“Only I will remain.”

Thoughts?

Are you scared of the future?

Do you have a clear idea of what your numbers are?

Have you ever wanted to lose your job?