Money, Man!: Part VIII

Hiya, Dear Reader! I’m dumbfounded delighted that you’re here for Part VIII of my lumbering series of posts on how my job experiences and my relationship with money brought me to wanting to FIRE. Should you want to drown yourself in peruse prior posts in this series, here are links to Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, and Part VII of the series. 

In post VII, I began discussing an interesting twist during my career. Here’s the rest of the story.

Employer #5, redux

Boss #11 

I kept in touch with Boss #9 after the debacle that was joining Employer #6. That included telling him about the mess I’d found myself in and my desire to get out ASAP. In time, he offered me my old job back. I took him up on the offer.

Now, Dear Reader, you may ask why in the world would I return to the place I’d left for the reasons I discussed in Part VII. Good question. You will not be faulted for finding the answer unsatisfactory. But here it is.

Part of the rationale was that in my city at that time it was a pretty dry period for positions at my level and that focused on areas that I liked. I should add that I didn’t want to leave my industry and so didn’t look at positions outside of it. That’s in part because salaries and benefits in the industry are pretty generous, and given my years and experience, I was a valuable commodity. Also, after suffering Boss #10, working for Boss #9, whom I really liked already, seemed positively dreamy. 

Another factor was that some of the things that bothered me about Employer #5 at the time I’d left had been resolved in part or in whole. Unfortunately, Vice-Boss #1 was not one of those things. That certainly gave me pause. But I looked past it because Boss #9 was the person who had most of the contact with him, and my interactions were limited. So, I figured it was a smallish price to pay.

Other reasons I returned were: (1) I obviously knew Employer #5, so on returning I’d hit the ground running, with few if any hiccups or learning curve, and I’d by this point in my career become grizzled enough to not like the ramping up process at a new job; (2) I knew the team that I’d be rejoining was full of great people beyond Boss #9 (most were my old teammates and one or two new people I was told were good people); and (3) frankly, it was just a comfort thing. I should add that sweetening the deal for my return was that Boss #9 agreed to match my salary at Employer #6, which, as I noted in my last post was a healthy amount higher than that I’d last had at Employer #5.

Pride swallowed, I was back with Employer #5. What I didn’t know (although I did suspect it) was that Boss #9 was looking to leave the organization. Not long after I came back, he bolted. D’oh!

After a job search process even more painful than that to hire Boss #9, Boss #11 eventually was hired on as the new sheriff in town. Boss #11 came from within the industry and, on paper and in all appearances, he looked to be a great hire. 

In short order, however, my coworkers and I noted some curious things about Boss #11. For one thing, he chronically over promised and under delivered. . . . If he delivered at all. He also missed or had to postpone meeting after meeting after meeting. Often meetings that he, himself, had initiated. He also did essentially no grunt work, which for a group as understaffed as ours, was tantamount to a complete dereliction of duties. Neither did he ever pitch in when one or several of our group members desperately needed help. This gave rise to our fast-growing and deep-rooted resentment of Boss #11. 

But there was much more. 

Unfortunately for Boss #11, his bad habits didn’t just affect us in the group. Boss #11’s superiors also regularly were put out by him. In remarkably short order, he wore out his welcome with them, too. We in the group then considered him to be a dead man walking. But given the organization’s dysfunctionality and Vice-Boss #1’s penchant for slothfulness, we weren’t counting on a sacking anytime soon.

These overall dynamics notwithstanding, I still had to work with the guy every day. So, I made as good a go of it as I could. 

Soon after Boss #11 started, and before he’d irrevocably sealed his own fate, I pitched to him an idea similar to the one I’d pitched to Boss #9 of me refocusing what type work I handled. Unlike Boss #9, Boss #11 gave my proposal a thumbs up and later told me that he was going to change my role accordingly. I was thrilled. 

By this point, I’d grown tired of the work I’d been focusing on but for which I had no love. Could I do that work? Yes. Could I do it well? Yes. Did I like it at least a little bit? Yes. Did I like it a lot and did I want to do more of it for the rest of my career? Most certainly not. 

When I found out that I finally was going to be able to focus on work I genuinely was excited about, I all but danced a jig. All that remained between me and the new role was Boss #11 getting official sign-off, which should have been a mere formality. 

A few weeks later, Boss #11 came into my office and closed the door. Speaking as if no actual promise had been made to me, and showing precisely no remorse and only the thinnest veil of regret, Boss #11 told me that he’d hired on a new employee to do the work he’d promised that I’d be focusing on. 

This wasn’t him telling me, “Hey, I know what I promised you, but sorry. I’ve decided that I’d like to hire someone else to do that work.” That’d have been bad enough. No, instead it was him telling me that this already was a done deal. 

I was stunned. And then I was pissed upset. Quite pissed upset. 

If the proverbial camel’s back of me wanting, or being willing, to work for others had been close to breaking by this point, Boss #11 shattered it. Never again did I want to work or take orders for someone like him. Whereas once I might merely have been disappointed by Boss #11/bosses like him, now he/they positively repulsed me. What’s more, for the first time in my career, I didn’t ever want to work for any organization on terms that were not all but wholly appealing to me. 

Had this happened a few years earlier in my career, I’d likely have considered leaving the organization. But by this point, some game-changing events had happened: I’d relatively recently discovered FIRE and was still in those early heady days where the idea of it and optimizing absolutely consumed me. Our pursuit of FIRE was at full gallop. Also, The Missus and I had begun talking about moving to the Mountain West. We were far from being FI (or ready to decide to move) at this point, but the end point was clear as day, and the desire to get there even faster had been stoked. 

So, I made a calculated decision. Given my and The Missus’ healthy salaries and retirement account benefits, my renewed peace with Employer #5 and continued love for my team members, and the fact that we very well might be moving not too far in the future and so would all but certainly have to get a new job then, I decided to stay with Employer #5 and not look for a job elsewhere.

These turned out to be pivotal years both as to my relationship with money and jobs, and as to the finances of FIREing. On the one hand, like I mentioned, Boss #11 took any then remaining shine off of my blind allegiance to bosses and employers. Also, we’d by this point reached what’d later be coined coast FIRE. So, I knew that were I to leave the job (or be let go), we’d be fine financially for a decently long time. 

Critically related to that was that I no longer feared being out of a job. That’s not to say that I wanted to be out of work. Just that the prospect—which once and long had terrified me—had all but vanished. To say that that was liberating would be a gross understatement. Especially given my feelings and fears about money, which had started to become ingrained in me when I was a wee child (as I explained in Part I of this blog series) and had grown for decades after. It represented a transformative triumph over a mental demon that had long plagued me.

The Missus and I also were in our best earning years, and the stock market was gaining apace. What’s more, I’d cut a healthy percentage of our spending after discovering FIRE. The spread between our income and expenses was far greater than it’d ever been. We’d also opened up taxable brokerage accounts and began maxing out our retirement account contributions. Compounding began working more and more significant magic for us. 

And in the end . . . 

Dear Reader, where we’d previously been (ignorantly) tip-toeing to FIRE, now we were full-on sprinting. The game was on. The question was whether we had the right stuff to quickly win. Tune in next time for Part IX of this series.