Hola, Dear Reader! I’m amazed pleased as punch that you’ve come here (surely by pure and unfortunate accident) for Part IX of my plodding series of posts on how my job experiences and my relationship with money brought me to wanting to FIRE. Should you want to suffer through read prior posts in this series, here are links to to Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, and Part VIII.
Employer #5
Boss #12
As I alluded to in Part VIII, Employer #5 ultimately kicked Boss #11 to the curb. But before that happened, he created and filled a senior position in our group.
Boss #11 never discussed the role with any of us in the group. So, we had no idea what its responsibilities were. Once we learned the role’s responsibilities, we were all . . . confused. That’s because they not only seemed to be ones that Boss #11 handled, but ones he would be expected to handle. It also was unclear whether any or all of us on the team were now to report to this new person at all, or to report to her instead of or in addition to Boss #11. I’m not sure that the new hire then knew either.
Boss #11 was fired before any of us could determine the answers.
We in the group, including the new hire, were caught unawares by the firing. That might not have been a huge issue but for the fact that management also had decided to name the new hire (who’d been on the job a scant few weeks by that point) the new group leader.
Funny thing tho. As I later came to find out, the new hire hadn’t been told that either. So, she was . . . uuummm . . . stunned and very, very . . . very upset surprised.
The new hire—who now was my new boss (Boss #12)—had loads of directly relevant experience. Although my prior interaction with her was somewhat limited, she impressed me.
After becoming our group’s leader, it quickly became apparent that Boss #12 intended to make changes. Lotsa changes. Comprehensive changes.
Within weeks, Boss #12 began what I ultimately realized was an unstated vetting exercise. She spoke to me and each other group member to get a measure of us and what we did, and whether we were people she wanted to keep on staff. As it turned out, I passed the test that I didn’t even know I was taking. A few others, however, failed, They soon left the group.
Only the strong survive, right? I’d only once encountered that sort of environment. And it had been many years since then. Regardless of the merits of the vetting exercise, I didn’t like it. If for no other reason than that it added another element of stress. Based on me having made the cut, and on my having picked up on cues from conversations with her, I determined that I had some slack with Boss #12. But I didn’t know how much. And I knew from what had just taken place that she wasn’t shy or afraid to get rid of employees. It added yet more fuel to my desire to reach FI. If I was gonna get canned, I was gonna be in the strongest financial position possible when it happened.
Regardless, as I’d passed the test and, as I explained in Part VIII was on a time-limited mission, I buried any resentment.
Once the “interviews” were over, Boss #12 began radically transforming our group. All in good ways, but the result was a far more stressful work environment for me and everyone else in my group.
It also became clear that I had no chance of changing the focus of my work to the area I preferred (the refocus that Boss #9 rejected and Boss #11 reneged on). In fact, under Boss #12, I’d do essentially none of that work at all. Dejected, I abandoned all hope of changing the situation.
Dear Reader, you may be asking why—given the new stresses and that I wasn’t getting to do what I wanted to do—was I sticking around in the job? The answer may be because I’m daft. That’s a perfectly reasonable question.
The answer may be unsatisfactory, but it is what it is. And it’s essentially the same answer as why I stayed with Employer #5 after Boss #11 pulled his jerk move. Namely, (1) I really liked my coworkers, (2) knew the organization up and down and enjoyed the familiarity I had and so was reluctant to make a change, (3) didn’t haaate the work that I did, (4) was far enough on my path to FIREing that making a change seemed like it might be far more trouble than it was worth, and (5) was inching even closer to deciding to move states. Fault me again for staying at Employer #5 if you will. But I was, and remain, content with my choice.
A few months into Boss #12’s tenure, The Missus and I decided to move states. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I was genuinely excited about the future. And giddy for the actual move date—about six months later—to arrive.
While my giddiness definitely stemmed from the impending move, it also was fueled by my feelings about our financial situation. If the fire to FIRE had been lit a while back, and was greatly fanned by Boss #11’s actions, now was the time when, financially, we were firing on all cylinders and all the cogs were in, or falling into, place. We were in our best earning years, we were shoveling money into investment accounts and our mortgage, and I’d optimized all sorts of expenses. The then-booming markets didn’t hurt either.
I had a clear mission (to reach FI (RE optional)) and knew that not only were we taking steps directly designed to fulfill it, but major steps. Gone were the days of having some amorphous goal (to, maybe one day retire, presumably at age 65 or later), and doing some saving (in checking and savings accounts rather than investments) of some arbitrary percentage of our income. In short, there was a clear finish line, and I could see it.
And in the end . . .
Dear Reader, given what followed in my career (spoiler alert: a few twists are coming up) and the fact that you may already have nodded off this post is getting pretty long, I’m gonna call it a day until my next post. In Part X of this series, I’ll detail, among other things, our move out west to higher ground, and the beginning of the next phase of our lives.
