I quit on September 4, 2015. And it was Kerry's idea.
It’s been in the plan all along. The toughest thing was
picking the date. Picking that date was actually making a commitment, drawing a
line in the sand that said, “This is the day I resign from my corporate job.”
Then the day moves. It moves again. Then one more time. It
doesn’t have to move much and we can compensate with our financial plans and
goals but, the truth is, it kept moving. By our first plans we would have been
sailing south by now. I know. Life is what happens when you are busy making
other plans.
Finally, after a soul searching weekend at the Perry
Rendezvous, my wonderful Kerry suggested we make the date now. Like, “Why don’t
you resign. You can work on your writing and work on the boat. All we have to
do is figure out what the new plan is and agree.”
Now.
And I sat. I sat, staring at her. After 30 years of having
to work, of needing to work, to support my family and my debt, someone was
telling me I could be done. I almost didn’t believe it. But, she explained it.
We can move some money from later to now and pay off Brigadoon. She can rework
the financial plan now that we are debt free. This way we can do two of the big
things we wanted to do. We can pay off our home, our yacht, our Brigadoon and
Donn can resign from corporate life.
After the holiday weekend, I walked into my corporate job
and handed in my very last ever resignation for an IT software company – ever.
The last one. It was a surreal experience,
both exciting and frightening. I mean, walking away from that job, from that
money, and the potential savings. So much at stake.
So much at stake.
Maybe the thing to think about was not what, but who, was at stake.
As I sit here in my pilot house, in the pre-dawn hours
of this day, two months later; I could not be happier. I’m up this early
because it’s part of the agreement I wrote with Kerry. In exchange for being
what I call a ‘kept man’ for the first time in my life, I agree to a few
things.
I get up with her every day, before dawn. I walk/drive her
to her bus/train stop.
I come home to Brigadoon and write. My goal is 500 words a
day. So far, my progress has been good and Kerry is satisfied with what I’m
producing. We have put aside a quick publish of a set of motorcycle stories and
have gone for the novel. It was her idea. Finish the novel. So far I’m over 33,000
words in with 20,000 to go but, the dailies are making it into the draft and
Kerry likes the draft so, that is the writing.
I work on Brigadoon in the afternoons. So far I have done a
lot of backbreaking cosmetic work on the hull topsides, re-engineered our stern navigation light,
tackled a frozen shower sump pump (still in progress), set up our storage unit
at the marina, sewn a splash cover for the kayak.
So mostly, in the mornings I write and in the afternoons
work on Brigadoon.
As each day closes I prepare for Kerry coming home (this
sounds so domestic, I know, but I’m kind of proud of it). Part of my agreement
was that I would also be responsible for dinner. You see, she is the one with
the two hour commute, and a fourteen hour work day -- not me. So, when she arrives home, I have dinner ready.
Right after I meet her at the train/bus/trolley every day.
My days are my own. I’ve no agenda, no meetings, no task,
obligation that I do not choose at each moment. Finally, my time is my own. I
choose where and when I spend my energy. I am obligated to no one’s problems or commitments but my own.
Yes, one could argue that being a kept man like this trades
one master for another but, I like this one a lot better.
Now, for the rest of the plan.
I can't tell you, though, just how god damn wonderful it feels to be this kind of free.
I sometimes just sit and look out the window, across the water, in utter disbelief in how incredibly lucky I am and how foolish it would be to waste any of the time I have left.
