Good Job 

I’m an old and decrepit guy. Having gotten my first job as a teenager and my first full-time job out of college so, so very long time a while ago, I’ve been I was in the workforce for several decades. But in all that time, you know one thing I never faced, Dear Reader? A layoff (precipitated by the employer’s finances). 

But wouldn’tcha know it, I FIRE (at the end of 2021) and the first job I take—a part-time gig—ends just that way. 

As I’ve written on this blog before, when I FIREd, I had no immediate plans to take any job, part-time or otherwise. I did assume I’d take a job (most likely of the part-time variety) at some point. But the when and what was loose and unknown. At best. 

But 2022? Yeah, it got in my head. For 2022 was a nasty one for just about all investors, yours truly most definitely included. The year bared its teeth right from the get go. It sharpened them as the year went on. A few months in, I started getting nervous tics, prompted by thoughts of a bad sequence of returns derailing things for us, however irrational (and, based on the soundness of our plan, they were irrational) those thoughts running through my not-so-pretty head were. Then I got annoyed. 

So, I started looking for a part-time job to bring in some income (supplementing the modest gig work income I’d been bringing in all along). The goal wasn’t necessarily to increase our wealth as such. Rather, it was to prevent us from having to draw down on our investment nut in whole or in part. 

[Blogger’s note: As I wrote that last paragraph, I was struck by just how profound and (for me) revolutionary that statement is. I mean, I essentially took a job for financially defensive reasons, to preserve wealth. Not offensive reasons. Man, I know I’m incredibly fortunate. I’ve never, ever forgotten that for a moment. Certainly not since having FIREd. But this ability to take a job for financially defensive reasons? That wows even me. What an invaluable privilege!]

In addition to any job I’d take being part-time, I essentially—and unapologetically and giddily—had two preconditions for any job I’d consider: it had to require no little mental effort and it had to allow me to not give the work a moment’s thought after leaving for the day.

An offer for just such a job soon came my way. I accepted it.

I had a vague notion that I’d hold the job until our investing fortunes turned around. But I otherwise gave no thought to how long I’d stay in it. Nor to any other benefits the job might offer. 

In fact, I’d given so little thought to these things that only when I came in for my first day of work did the reality of what I’d done—and that I’d have to, you know, actually do work and have a weekly work schedule—sink in at all. 

I felt a pit in my stomach for a fleeting moment. . . . Then it went away. It never returned.

This job was what I used to call—and pretty much still consider—a blow-off job. Although some challenges came with the job, the written requirements were, to put it mildly, easy. And those challenges? They were f’sho real, but came rarely. 

After a few workdays, I realized something: I liked the job. As time went on, I found that the job had benefits (tho unfortunately not health care ones, which woulda been sweet) I couldn’t have anticipated. That’s kinda sorta what this blog post is about. Sorry for the tedious lengthy prelude, Dear Reader.

Structural integrity

One thing I did know coming in (tho not in the nuanced way I later would) was that the job would provide structure for a decent portion of my workdays. I came into work at a certain time, worked a set number of hours, and left at a certain time. As someone who looovvves likes structure, this provided a lot of certainty as to the rhythm of my days and weeks. I liked that. Quite a bit.

The long weekend

I structured my work days so that I had a long weekend every week. Mostly because I wanted all my work days to be consecutive (see, structure obsession, above). But the side benefit was that I came to love the idea and reality of the long weekend and never felt that I was working too much. I liked going into work, and I never felt that my weekend was too short. It was the perfect balance for me. 

People power

My co-workers were in almost every way unlike anyone I’d worked with in decades. That took some (tho very little) adjusting to. But it also was incredibly refreshing. That’s not to say I didn’t like and respect most of my coworkers during my full-time career. I very much did. But my part-time job coworkers were either mostly young (high schoolers, college kids, and recent college grads) or really, really, really old around my age. Almost all were pretty laid back. 

I shared next to nothing in common with my coworkers. But I liked, and had a good time working with, almost all of them. They made coming into work not just not a drag, but fun. 

Consulting gig

One of my goals for my post-FIRE life was to do volunteer work, something I neglected (if consciously) during my full-time career. In time, I secured two student mentorship opportunities. Unfortunately, neither was what I’d hoped it’d be. One I’ve left. The other, I’ll soon be leaving. 

But something funny happened simultaneously. I found that many of my part-time job coworkers were in need of some mentoring (even if they didn’t know or ask for it), that I could provide some of it, and that I loved doing so. A few people I straight-up took under my wing. Others I helped more subtly. In every case, I got lotsa personal satisfaction.

None of these people I counseled transformed themselves. Certainly, none became FIRE addicts. But several made concrete positive changes. None more helpful than investing (more) in their employer-sponsored retirement plans. I never wanted or asked for thanks for them. But I hope they think of me at some later point when they see satisfying numbers in their investment accounts. 

Investing time

A side benefit of mentoring one coworker came accidentally. When I took this job, I didn’t intend to invest in the employer-sponsored retirement plan. After all, we already had enough for me to have FIREd. And the whole idea of the job was to generate income that’d lessen or eliminate the need to dip into our investments nut. Investing money into something we didn’t need, only to decrease the money we did “need,” would be . . . wait for it . . . nuts. Right?!

In the course of mentoring this coworker, I learned that he wasn’t investing in the employer-sponsored retirement plan. So, I decided to go through the motions of seeing how to invest in the plan so that I literally could walk this coworker through the process, step by step. 

But wound’tcha know it, in the process of doing that, I couldn’t help myself . . . and invested in the plan myself. Old habits die hard and all that, I guess.

Now, not earning anything like a princely sum for my labors for this employer, the actual dollar amounts invested were small. But they were something. And in a down market, too, which should increase the ultimate upside. Also, I invested in funds I’d previously considered getting into, but hadn’t actually done. So, I sorta got to have my cake and eat it, too. Some of this money was taken out of my paychecks pre-tax, too. Which was no bad thing.

This is the end, beautiful end

All was going well. I even recently remarked to a few people how I’d sort of hit the figurative (definitely not monetary) jackpot with this job. I liked all aspects of it, and the unanticipated benefits. 

Then, a few months ago, my boss called me on one of my days off. That almost never happened.

I figured I’d be asked to fill a shift that unexpectedly needed filling. I figured wrong. 

Instead, my boss told me that I (and most of my coworkers) would soon be laid off due to budget issues. An ever-so-brief twinge of finances-related disappointment ran through me. But the nature of the disappointment changed in an instant, transforming from kinda sorta worry about money to, instead, simply mourning the loss of this job I liked so much 

By the end of the conversation, I found myself essentially shrugging. Saying to myself, “oh well.” Certainly as to the money part of it.

And that, I think, was the final wholly unexpected benefit of the job. Maybe the biggest unexpected benefit of all. 

Had I been informed during my full-time career before discovering FIRE that I was being laid off, I’d have FREAKED THE FLUTE OUT. Because for most of that time, The Missus and I were either wholly or largely dependent on our combined job incomes to fund our lives. To be sure, we had a cushion. And we were building some wealth otherwise. But there absolutely had to be a next (well-paying) job.

Now? Not so much. Income I earn is helpful. But not necessary. Much less critical. Losing it is . . . an inconvenience. One that pales in comparison to all the non-monetary benefits I got from the job. 

So, I anticipated missing this job. But was awfully grateful for having had it. It ended up being as valuable as any gig I ever had. And almost entirely for non-monetary reasons. 

Like I said, I’m incredibly fortunate. 

News I can use

Everything you just slogged through read was ready to go as a blog post last week on the day I normally post (every other Thursday). . . . But a funny thing happened on the way to the forum posting live: I got wind that the layoffs likely were going to be reversed.

Well, that’s interesting I thought! I wondered if it’d come to pass? And if I’ll be invited back?

The news since has been confirmed. And I’ve been offered my old spot back. I’ll all but surely accept the not-so-generously-paid job offer.

Rather than junk this blog post, I decided to just add this last section. Reason being that I’m lazy . . . and sunk time costs and all that the layoff, while proving ultimately to be short lived, did spur me to reflect on things. And that not only was fun, but a valuable experience. One, to allow me to gather all my thoughts about the job’s benefits, monetary and otherwise. But also to serve as yet another reason to feel tremendous gratitude.

Again, like I said, I’m incredibly fortunate. 

And in the end . . . 

Regardless of the late, but welcome, turn of events, I long found curious my transformation into the shrugging, oh-well, guy I’ve become as to jobs. I not only had trouble articulating the sensation, but also putting some label on it. But in time, I had an epiphany. I’ve become a madmanChadman.