The Working Lives of Others

I’ve had occasion to have taken a few long weekend trips recently. The first was with a buddy of mine, whom I’ll call Danny. Finding himself between jobs, Danny had called me earlier this year and asked if I wanted to go on a road trip. I jumped at the chance. We had all sorts of fun over the course of five days.

The second was a trip to visit my friend, whom I’ll call Petey, and his wife, whom I’ll call Jilly. During this trip, I stayed with them for part of the trip, and with another friend, whom I’ll call Otto (and his wife, whom I’ll call Kitty), for the remainder.

I also had occasion to have spent time with some friends of ours from out of state who were out our way on vacation. I’ll call them Jimmy and Nellie. We spent a full and lovely day with them.

Both of my recent trips were nothing short of fantastic. And the time we spent with our friends who visited us was equally great. But much to my surprise, of the things I’ll remember from each get-together, several are job/work-related.

For Petey’s sake

My last day with Petey and Jilly, before I decamped for Otto and Kitty’s place, was a Monday. Petey and Jilly both worked (remotely) that day, as did I.

Petey is a clinical healthcare provider and works for himself. Jilly does white-collar work for Multinational Co. That Monday, Petey had mostly back-to-back online video conference patient sessions (which he attended from his finished basement) that started at 7:00 a.m. and went all the way thorough the late-afternoon. Jilly had several telephone conference calls starting around 8:00 a.m.

I saw Petey twice that day. Once, when he came up for a quick lunch, and the other when he drove me to meet up with Otto. I have no reason to believe that this particular day was significantly more stressful than Petey’s normal workday. But neither did I have reason to believe that it was any less so. And he sure was busy. There was plenty of documentation and (to no small extent) annoying paperwork to complete after his sessions, too. And insurance companies to fight with about payments.

As for Jilly, at least two of her calls concerned some project involving all sorts of people. Also, all sorts of deadlines and promises of deliverables. And, as I deciphered from listening to Jilly talk, people engaging in CYA efforts, and failed execution (not by Jilly).

As Jilly later explained to me, the project had way too many cooks in the kitchen, and convoluted and conflicting tasks. As an added bonus, there was no designated and acknowledged leader(s). In short, a mess. And one that, as Jilly noted to me, had been going on for more than one year.

Although Jilly was all business on her calls, I could tell that, at least in the moment, she was stressed. Separately, she’s confided to me in the past that her work is stressful. Like me, she does good work and holds herself to account and to high standards. Breaking a promise or deadline, or letting someone down, is simply not something that we would contemplate. Much less do.

After what had been a really fun and relaxing weekend, seeing Petey and Jilly become all business early on a Monday morning was rather jarring. Even if I was not in the least personally affected by said business.

Now, Petey and Jilly are pretty high-earners. And they’ve long been diligent savers. While their yearly expenses are likely twice ours, they have no trouble paying the bills. The percentage spread between their income and expenses all but certainly is admirable.

But if Petey and Jilly cut their expenses in half, I think they both all but certainly could FIRE yesterday. Maybe even fat FIRE. And each knows about financial independence and FIRE (even if they’ve not done exhaustive reading). They also know about my plans to FIRE at the end of 2021.

Now, Petey and Jilly don’t hate their jobs. But Petey would just as soon work less and, also, never spend another second fighting with insurance companies. Jilly, I think, would love little more than to become a lady who lunches. Or, at least a lady who lunches whenever she pleases.

So, Petey and Jilly could gain immeasurable control over their schedules and eliminate a lot of stress pretty quickly and easily. Even if they didn’t FIRE, they could scale back the amount of work they do, the stress they endure, and the time commitments they’re subject to. But they’re doing no such thing.

I expect Petey and Jilly both to call it quits on their careers at 60 years old. Perhaps a little earlier. And they may scale things down before completely cutting loose. So, unlike almost everyone I know, they have an end game, and one that makes more sense than most others.

But, in the meantime, there’ll be hundreds of busy, stressful Mondays. And other workdays, too.

That Otto do it

I was at Otto and Kitty’s house on a Tuesday. They worked remotely that day. Otto works in marketing and public relations, a field that can be unpredictable and, at times, highly stressful. Kitty is a product/project manager.

The day that I spent with Otto seemed neither busier nor slower than usual for him. But I know his boss and the business that Otto works for. He’s subject to stressful situations and demands, even if related to worthwhile objectives. During our time together, Otto also related to me that he’s worked harder this past year than he’s ever worked in his career (Otto is a rough contemporary of mine, so we’re talking decades). That means that he objectively had worked a lot.

Kitty led conference calls all day. From what I overheard, there were a lot of projects and a lot of balls in the air. Deadlines to meet. Projects to deliver. Financing-dependent goals to achieve. All go-go-go. Very possibly rewarding work. But time-consuming and stressful as Kitty related to me.

Although I got the sense from talking to Kitty that she liked her job, I also could tell that given her druthers, she’d rather be doing something else, thank you very much. Probably something not work-related at all. Like spending more time with her and Otto’s two kids.

I have no idea how much Otto and Kitty have saved and invested. But I know it’s not nothing. I also know that both are well compensated. And that they live below their means.

I’ve never mentioned financial independence or FIRE to Otto. But I’ve wondered if he’d not just find it interesting, but start pursuing it. Otto’s a curious sort, so I think there’s a good chance that he would.

Otto and Kitty very well may be, unbeknownst to them, well on the path to FIRE. And I’d bet that if they made some financial changes that likely wouldn’t negatively impact their lives or happiness, they likely could FIRE in five to ten years. Maybe less depending upon how much they already have saved/invested.

In the meantime, there’ll be hundreds of busy, stressful Tuesdays. And other workdays, too.

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy

Nellie is a full-time medical doctor. Jimmy holds a chief technology officer role. He’s long been in demand in the tech sector. In short, both are well compensated.

We got together with Jimmy and Nellie on a Sunday. And, to repeat—because it bears repeating—they were on vacation. Late that afternoon, while we were enjoying a leisurely stroll, Jimmy said that he had to make a call. He didn’t say about what.

Turned out that it was a work call. About some tech problem (which, from my experience, are often hair-on-fire-level problems). Jimmy was on that call . . . on a Sunday . . . while purportedly on vacation . . . for about an hour.

Jimmy’s a funny guy. And he’s always come across to me as laid back. But he’d earlier in the day we spent together confided to me that his job was very time-consuming and stressful. And that he was extremely stretched and stressed. That’s stress on top of the stress that comes with his health condition, mind you.

In terms of Jimmy and Nellie’s lifestyle (worth mentioning is that they have two kids), their spending is very high. I’d bet at least double our yearly expenses. And what we spend is no pittance. Jimmy also has a major health condition, which requires many medications and regular doctor visits. I have no idea how much Jimmy and Nellie have saved or invested. But they’re very bright, and Jimmy did mention to me that they have a financial advisor. So, their financial situation is almost certainly not dire. Maybe even pretty good.

Though I so dearly wanted to, I didn’t mention FIRE, or any means by which he might become financially independent, to Jimmy. I got the sense that he and Nellie were in so deep that extricating themselves from the burden that their lifestyle imposed on them would have seemed so quaint as to be completely fanciful.

I’m sure that for them, there’ll be hundreds of busy, stressful Sundays. And other (non-)workdays, too.

Oh, Danny boy . . .

Contrast all this with what I saw on my Utah trip with Danny. You, remember, Dear Reader, the guy who’s out of work.

Danny’s been well compensated in his jobs for a few decades. But he’s always worked a lot of hours. Sixty- to eighty-hour weeks every month or two have been common.

On the plus side, Danny not only has invested money for many years, but, as I learned on our trip, has invested fairly wisely. He also has a rental property that throws off some income. He and his wife, whom I’ll call Lillie, keep separate finances. Lillie works for herself and makes a nice chunk of change each year.

On the minus side, Danny and his family (wife, two kids) spend a lot of money. If I had to guess, maybe as much as triple what we spend. Also, Lillie may not be saving any money at all. Let alone investing. The spread between their income and expenses is all but surely far lower than ours. It’s probably a positive differential. But far less than it could/should be.

I expected Danny to be stressed on our trip. Maybe very much so. Because of his being out of work for one thing. Or his family’s less-than-ideal finances. Or that he’d been a functional, if inadvertent, workaholic for so long that it’d have seemed that anything short of being in the workplace would make him uncomfortable.

But to my great surprise, Danny was relaxed and unstressed on our trip. In fact, he appeared to have adopted an attitude amounting to: Things aren’t financially dire (yet), and I’ll all but surely soon get a job that compensates me pretty well, so I’m not going to stress (yet). It was refreshing to see this.

Ironically, if I know one thing about Danny, it’s that unlike everyone else mentioned in this blog post, and even though he’s liked but never completely loved his jobs, he may never retire. Even if he becomes—at least on paper—financially independent. In fact, Danny might not even slow down or pursue other areas of work that offer less pay but would come with less stress and time commitments and far greater job satisfaction.

So, I hope for Danny’s sake that he’ll experience as many more leisurely, no-stress Mondays, and Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and Fridays as he can. And no working weekends.

Lesson up, kids

Aside from the somewhat voyeuristic enjoyment that I got from seeing my friends in their working lives, I took a few things away from these experiences. First, everything I describe above—from the aneurysm-inducing calls related to projects that not only had gone awry, but shouldn’t have been greenlit in the first place to the there’s-a-big-problem-now-fix-it Sunday work call that ruins a weekend—I’ve experienced first-hand. And while, as my friends did, I successfully dealt with those situations as they came, that doesn’t mean I liked them. Also, like my friends did when I asked them about what I’d observed, I’d essentially have said “Oh, it’s annoying. But it’s no big deal.” if the shoe was on the other foot. I mean, these types of situations are just part of the job. Right?

Yes. they are.

And that brings me to the other things that I took from my experiences seeing my friends work. To the extent that I may have harbored a bit of envy for their work or their working lives, that pretty much went out the window. It also reinforced my desire to pursue financial independence and to FIRE at the end of this year. Though I didn’t know it was possible, it further lowered my tolerance level for things I might put up with in any work I might pursue post-FIRE, too. Weekend calls? Forget it. Meeting after meeting after meeting? Well, those had better be funtimes meetings. Otherwise, you’re on notice that I’m walking if that becomes a regular thing. Convoluted projects gone haywire that I’m asked to become a part of or, worse, manage? Ain’t nobody got time for that. At least not me.

All valuable lessons.

And in the end . . .

One of the most ironic things about what I observed was that the least-stressed and bothered person of all these people I spent time with was the guy who’s out of work. And lemme tell, you, that wasn’t lost on me either. I might not just get used to not working, I might get really good at unemployment.