It’s been a few weeks now at work, that the illegitimi have been carborunduning the crap out of me. New boss with no spine. Newish boss of boss, having spent about a year sort of getting to know the ropes, has now grasped them and begins to tighten. Crabseye tests out as a Creative (one personality test), a Mastermind (a different test), and an INTJ (the biggie test). Crabseye is a problem solver, a thinker outside of the box … 9 to 5 schedules and business casual are nauseatingly restrictive. The noose tightens.
Fortunately, I live pretty frugally and have done so for many years. I forego eating out and expensive recreation activities. I indulge a high food budget due to the costs of organic foods; and I do have a bit of an electronic gadget habit, but control it pretty well. But I sock away a good amount of money, invest prudently though a bit toward the risky end of the spectrum (just means I’m heavy into equities).
Bottom line. Through my 30s and 40s, and even most of my 50s, just like most of you, when the illigetimi were acting up, I had to grin and bear it. Vent stream by looking for a new job. Spend enough time looking that the crisis blows over and there I remain, till the years added up to 25 and the retirement fund added up to “you can do this if you’re careful.”
So I’m staring at that moment we all dream of, when if I want to, I really can tell them to go pound it.
I’m standing on the edge of a new, exciting, weirdly scary phase of life. Like Indiana Jones as he nears the cave where the Crusader guards the chalice of Christ, and he faces a bottomless chasm and knows he must step off and have faith in his portfolio (no wait, I’m getting mixed up).
Will I take the step?