Fuck-You Money vs. Fuck-You Time

A few days ago, I got together with a good friend of mine, Justin. We met at Caffe Ladro in Fremont, bright'n'early at 7am. We talked virtually non-stop for two and a half hours, pausing briefly only to breathe and to sip our drinks.

As we hadn't seen each other in two months, we had lots to share -- new favorite podcasts, interesting developments in the world of technology, and profound insights about early retirement. Justin also filled me in on his recent bike trip to Cuba, and I apprised Justin of my recent bike guiding experiences.

I had really been looking forward to guiding bicycle trips for a local company this summer. However, after guiding the first two trips, I realized that the company wasn't a good fit for me. The company had some business practices that I wasn't comfortable with. And so being the principled person that I am, I decided I would no longer work for the company.

"It must be nice to have fuck-you money," Justin said, with a covetous smile.

I tilted my head and raised my eyebrows: "Fuck-you money?"

A Fun Job: Not An Oxymoron

I have been enjoying semi-retirement for 14 months now. What exactly, you ask, is "semi-retirement"?

The "retirement" part means that I left my job, and I no longer need to work. (I am using the word "work" to refer to a paid job.)

The "semi" part means that while I don't need to work, I may decide to work. If I do work, it will be by choice and not out of necessity. It will be on my own terms.

My days of having to work are over. This means no more unrelenting stress. No more endless adrenaline rushes. No more days of back-to-back meetings when I can't get any real work done. No more days of a backlog of emails in my inbox, every one needing a response yesterday.

Quoth the raven: "Nevermore."