The Day I Quit

It was a wonderful, wonderful day.

Here’s the story: when I was still corporate I hung out on early-retirement.org a lot. I was browsing the old haunt recently and ran across this post from my last day of work, June 21, 2005. When I wrote this I was a little giddy and a little in shock and more than a little drunk, all which I blame for
the purple prose.

I am done, my friends. Just hung ’em up.

Life is a pie in the face, or perhaps the kiester. Irony is everywhere, and even the sad clown is guffawing.

I was planning to leave my job this year, with a FIRE in my belly, until my CEO called me into his office and informed me that, ahem, he was sorry to have to let me go. I kept the joy off my face, knowing full well that the standard severance package would be worth about a hundred and fifty gravy…er, I mean, grand, in addition to the nut I’d socked away.

I mean, hell, I was going to quit free gratis. And this fellow wanted to PAY ME TO LEAVE. So I hung my head, agreed, and began winding things down.

And today was my last day.

The Cinnamon Girl [my wife’s nickname] and I are moving back to [a warm sunshiny state] next month, and meanwhile I’m going to do a few things: write, drink, laze in the sun, and generally make merry. The house is sold, the bags are packed, and the checks are all cashed.

I’m thirty-six, brethren and sistren. My daughter’s a year old, the rivers are full of fish, and I haven’t seen Europe yet. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll ever go back to work…but I sure enough have time to think about it.

So I bid you cause no lasting harm, and tip your hat to no man.

Selah.

Yeah, that’s turrible prose. Turrible. However sincerely meant, it’s a textbook case of irrational exuberance.

That said, I wish you all the irrational exuberance in the world, because when you finally hang them up too, I hope you’ll take a minute to write your feelings down. At a later date you’ll for sure look back on them and grin, no matter how well or poorly you wrote.

Now: it’s Easter morning and I’m about to get up out of this chair in the garden and go back inside and fetch that chocolate Easter bunny my wife left on my pillow this morning, and I’m going to eat the thing’s head, because that’s where the luck lives.

Sending that luck your way…

Your pal,

The Early Retirement Dude