What It’s Really Like to Not Have to Work on Monday

We started working intently towards financial independence in 2015. Less than five years later, we crossed the finish line. I pinned the merit badge on my flair vest and decided to call it quits on the corporate world, just as COVID-19 was quietly putting the world in a strangle hold. A few weeks later, the stock market crashed, and along with it, our net worth. Is waking up each Monday without needing a job as great as it seems? Am I just running from something?

Well…maybe.

The first portion of this essay was written 35,000 feet over the north Atlantic on a westbound United flight from Frankfurt, Germany. The date is February 23, 2020.

Returning to Reality: Monday

I’m on a plane, stuffed between my wife and a friendly American ex-pat returning home from Italy. It’s Sunday. It’s also hard to say what time it really is. Where I started this journey, in Frankfurt, it’s 3:00 pm. Where we are headed, Denver, the morning is just beginning at 7:00 am. We’re currently over Greenland, and I’m mesmerized by the surreal pale blue light of the extreme northern latitudes. 

Normally, I would be experiencing a range of emotions. Eagerness and excitement to return to my dog, my home, my regular diet and routines. I’d be reflecting on the trip in my recent past, in this case to Sicily. I’d be cranky that someone like me has to sit strapped in a seat for ten hours. Actually, I’m experiencing all of that now.

But I’d also be experiencing a growing sense of low-level stress about tomorrow: Monday.

Up until about two weeks ago, when I sort of quit my job, Monday meant the thing it does to most of us: the beginning of the work week. In the past I’d be mulling over all the things I need to get done before Monday comes. Jet-lagged and sleep-deprived, mind you.

• Shit, I have to go to the grocery store.
• F, I have to unpack.
• Oh, no! Laundry.
• Walk the dog.
• Get tomorrow’s post ready to release. Damnit!
• Etc.

This time I have nowhere to be, starting Monday. I’m looking at campers online, and I’ve begun scheduling visits by contacting folks on Craiglist. I’ll probably go to the gym in the morning, before tomorrow’s second round of jet lag kicks in. And best of all, I’ll begin reaching out to my weekday climbing partners to see who is around for some crowd-free climbing later this week.

That’s it.

Late February, 2020

I’m climbing classic routes in prime conditions with no other people around. I’m training in the gym and can film myself without being questioned as a pervert during youth team night.

Ahhh, the pre-COVID salad days of late February. I look back with rose-colored glasses, reminiscent of a time when dog poop in the neighbors’ trash bins was worth online commentary. Furthermore, there was a time when urban grocery shopping didn’t feel like a terrifying game of chicken. The biggest controversy in climbing was whether or not Said Belhaj sent Action Directe (9a). Could we imagine that in a few short weeks we’d be debating whether we should be climbing at all…

…IN MARCH??

Three Weeks of Bliss

My first three weeks after returning from Sicily are simply incredible. Everything I wrote on the plane is playing out how I dreamt it: I’m climbing classic routes in prime conditions with no other people around. I’m training in an uncrowded gym and can film myself without being questioned as a pervert during youth team night.

We buy that sweet little A-frame camper, and I start decking it out for an upcoming trip to Utah in late March. Meanwhile, I dream of an extended road trip on the horizon.

Every morning I wake up and design my day nearly entirely to my liking, with only self-imposed assignments, timelines, or directives.

Yeah.

Early to Mid-March, 2020

By early March, the coronavirus discussion is getting real in the U.S. The first two confirmed cases in Colorado are announced on March 5. As I’ve previously discussed, Mrs. CC started to become ill on our flight out of Sicily (February 22), which developed into a hell of a cough and shortness of breath for over a week. I too felt feverish for a couple of days soon after.

We try twice to get Mrs. CC tested for COVID-19, but we are basically laughed off the phone. We haven’t traveled to China, Iran, or South Korea, and she didn’t have a notable fever. We are told that it’s “highly unlikely” we were infected in Italy or passing through major international airports.

The Monday It Started Getting Weird

After COVID-19 arrives in Colorado in early March (we now of course know it was likely here much earlier), things start getting weird. You know how it was. I am continuing to climb, but I am also becoming increasingly more aware and conflicted, somewhere between denial and concern.

You can see the sense of conflict in my writing. In my posts from early March, I’m largely dismissive of the virus. However, as the days and weeks pass, and as the data becomes increasingly clear that community spread is real⏤and that means of transmissions are not well-known⏤I’m swiftly changing my tone. With a metro population of nearly three million, it’s easy for me to see this getting out of hand.

I start bringing soap to the crag. I am only climbing with one person, and I make it clear to him that I want to stay away from crowded crags. When the schools and climbing gyms shutter, that becomes nearly impossible. It’s a Monday, and parking lots and crags are bursting at the seams. Social distancing on the cramped belay ledges is a joke. My last day climbing on rock is March 18.

Two days later, on March 20, I stupidly venture out in a spring snow storm to shovel snow for some hopeful solo bouldering. Consequently, I’m involved in a bad accident and our only car is totaled.

The real quarantine begins.

The Quarantine Days

I don’t need to tell you about lockdown. Walks, house work, Zoom calls. Sound familiar?

The only difference is that I’m willingly out of work. I find a structured routine to be incredibly important. I still treat Monday – Friday as “work days,” and as a result I haven’t struggled (yet) with boredom or malaise of an extended lockdown. Mrs. CC works in our home office, while I occupy the rest of the house as the day progresses.

We also don’t have kids, so things are nice and quiet around here. Well, that’s not entirely true.

My neighbors, who live ten feet away, are a three generational family, ripe with anger issues and a propensity towards stepping outside and testing their vocal cords on one another. It even extends to the three ankle-biting dogs. And when there’s a hail storm, the family scrambling to protect their nascent weed plants sounds like a scene from the movie White Squall.

This, So Far, is Pretty, Pretty…Pretty Good.

Apologies to Larry David.

Other than dealing with all the universe has thrown our way in the last two months, I have no regrets about leaving the traditional workforce. None at all.

The boss and I get along really well.

Sure, I’ve body-checked my emotions against the wall at times, finding ways to deal with so much uncertainty. I miss climbing with friends. Plenty of people are doing it, but I’m admittedly worried that we (everyone, not climbers in particular) are about to throw gasoline on smoldering ashes. Control what you can, or something.

I’ve taken comfort in history, both from an investing standpoint and simply from a human standpoint.

All the coronavirus nonsense aside, I want to let you know that the audacious-sounding goal of financial independence is 100% worth pursuing. I thrive on answering to myself, and I make a fantastic boss…for myself. The boss and I get along really well.

(Related Post: Early Retirement: Is It the Solution?)

Filling a Monday…Or Tuesday, or Wednesday…

Some folks have asked what I do to fill my days. Here’s a list of words:

Climbing/Training

Home wall sessions: 4 sessions per week, ~2.5 hours each

Strength sessions: 2-3 sessions per week, 1 hour each.

Running: 2 times per week, 20 minutes.

We’ve recently started doing a touch of hiking, far from the crowds. I began some solo bouldering the week of May 18.

Electrical work

I’ve learned a ton about electrical systems of RVs. I built out a fully-off-the-grid 12V and 120V electrical system for our A-frame camper. This includes doubling the battery capacity, adding 200W of solar, installing a 1000W inverter, and mounting a dedicated inverter-fed electrical receptacle. This is a really rewarding project. I went from zero knowledge to something slightly higher than zero, like 0.4.

Web design stuff and background analytics

I’d like to one day secure some internet-based and location-independent income streams. I’m using the experience of this website as a learning opportunity for future endeavors. Don’t worry, I’m going to keep this platform (Clipping Chains) as pure as possible. I’ll sell you all something somewhere else.

For you? I’ll cut that price in half and then double it! 😉

Lots of long walks

You know how I feel about walking.

Language

I do about 20 minutes of Duolingo Spanish each day. Well, most days.

Writing

This, of course. I do about two hours of writing each morning.

Cooking!

This is one of my favorite parts of not having a job. I can really spend time in the kitchen, not rushed to slap something together. I roasted a leg of lamb…on a Tuesday! Why the hell not?

What We’re Not Doing

We are not living on our investments. We haven’t sold a single share. Mrs. CC is still gainfully employed (her choice; she’s my sugar mama, but not my sugar mama). Her income covers our living expenses, and even allows us to continue our dollar-cost-average investing strategy through this downturn.

We are continuing to invest regularly, ignoring the black hole forces of market timing.

I expected that losing my source of income would have been a bit disorienting. It honestly hasn’t bothered me at all, perhaps the result of Mrs. CC’s income. Also, to her credit, we over-saved by quite a bit. Even in this environment, we would be well within the 4% Rule if we started withdrawals.

Finally, I have to admit that the severance package I received from the company buy-out helped smooth things over too. I was going to walk from that job in March anyway, but being shown the door with a little financial care basket was awfully thoughtful.

Perks of the corporate world.

Summary

Folks, if you’ve ever dreamed of financial independence or “early retirement,” I can so far assure you that it’s worth keeping the dream alive. I would certainly never, however, self-apply the label of “retired”⏤that word conjures up all the wrong images for most folks.

For the kind of person that prospers on their own, it’s the best life. I know for 30+ million people, financial independence probably feels like a sick joke right now. That’s not lost on me, and I know how fortunate we are.

Some personalities may jive with an externally-defined schedule, and consequently might struggle with a wide-open, self-defined calendar. I’m not that kind of personality, so I find this lifestyle to fit like a batsuit. I’m no Val Kilmer, but I’ll keep slipping in to it each and every Monday morning.

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