Independence Day

“Why are you still working?” friends would ask. Busy with hiking, cycling, traveling, volunteering, and hobbies, they wondered how they'd once had time for full-time jobs.

Another friend shared thoughtful advice she'd been given: “Don't retire from something—retire to something.”

I still enjoyed my work (and my colleagues). But over the past year or so, I had been growing less tolerant of big-corporation-bureaucracy and less inspired by the work ahead.

Last May, my chief biking buddy and I took a couple of days off to join a group cycling in the Paso Robles area. Arriving ahead of the group, we planned our own adventure for Monday. Sunday night, I tackled Monday's crossword puzzle.

Was the universe sending me a message?! Not just 44 down (RETIRE), but HAHAHA (41 down), NOTAFAN (of work? 39 down), and LIVELONG (37 down).

In case the message WASNTCLEAR (Tuesday's puzzle, 32 down), I was reminded that I was OUT (of office, 53 across).

I had already crafted a plan—a plan to “test-drive” retirement. I had contrived to hoard the maximum number of vacation days, which (when supplemented with a few holidays) would allow me to take off the entire months of June and July.

My plan was to live an ordinary, day-to-day life. Cycling, hiking, catching up on chores. Would I be bored? I've been intellectually engaged for virtually all of my life, certainly academically and throughout my career.

Some days, I felt ready to retire. On other days, the prospect terrified me. Maybe I would return in August and convert to part-time for a while.

During my test drive, I compiled a list (“Things I Will or Won't Miss”); there were almost twice as many “won't miss” items. I also kept a log tracking how I'd spent each day; when August came around, I wouldn't be left wondering what I'd done with my time.

Spoiler alert: I learned that I didn't miss the office.

I did, however, decide to return. Weighing multiple factors, I kept working full-time (with a spring-time plan to propose going part-time through the end of 2023). I went back because I knew I could still be useful. My skills were valued by my team; we were working hard to deliver on a critical, priority-zero project. The reward for me was in the human interaction: coaching and mentoring, supporting my colleagues as they developed their careers.

I had picked up a copy of Steve Lopez's recent musings about retirement (Independence Day), finding many points that resonated. Losing your (professional) identity. A job that no longer feels rewarding. The need for connection. Waking up each day looking forward to something you want to do. Doing what you love to do.

I hadn't quite finished the book when the callous form letter landed in my email inbox in the wee hours of January 20, informing me that my employment would end on March 31 (although I had already been sidelined, along with thousands of others deemed surplus).

A friend asked what would happen with that big project. I shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Laptop returned.

Career ended.