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I’d always expected a sudden burst of awareness, announced by the clap of a starter pistol, or the clash of a gong. I expected a eureka moment like Archimedes had, something of unimaginable magnitude, tectonic.

“I’m going to retire,” I told myself proudly. “I’ll tell them next week.” I paused for the explosion of thunder.

It was as explosive as a cherry tomato.

After years of planning, researching, and documenting, all I got for that life-altering decision was a mild flush. Like a fever. A week would pass before things really got hot. From there it was out of control, twists and turns, adrenaline and excitement. And yes, explosions.

A 90-day roller coaster ride to retirement is not for the faint of heart.

Day 90: Sunday

I published an article in the morning and struggled with another for an hour. It was a nice day, so I gave up and walked down to the beach. The tide was out, and I could see the starfish and mussels clinging tightly to the rocks. Tiny crabs scurried about their little world, oblivious to me towering over them like Gulliver. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the retirement decision from yesterday. And work – it was going to be a busy week. Like always, I checked email that night.

Mondays are like a box of chocolates (apologies to Forest’s mama). You never know what you’re going to get. I wonder what they’ll be like when I’m retired. Will all the days look the same or will Sunday night have a permanent scar?

Day 89: Monday

I woke up with Monday’s typical low-grade anxiety and splashed through the showering and flossing rituals of the morning. But today I brushed more vigorously than usual, and my spirits rose as I thought about The Future.

Day 87 Wednesday

I haven’t told anyone yet and I feel intense excitement from being the only one at work who knows the secret. I wonder if it shows. Do I look different? Can they hear it in my voice?

Zoom meetings are filled with animated faces and voices intent on project details that won’t make the world any better. They highlight their trifling accomplishments and next steps in the native language of bullet lists and PowerPoint slides. I speak fluently but won’t have much use for it soon.

Day 86 Thursday

My boss knows. It was surprisingly hard to broach the subject and I sputtered and stammered through it. His first words were to congratulate me, a classy move. He plays his cards close, so I can’t tell if he’s worried that I’m leaving or happy about it. I’ll go with worried, it’s easier on my psyche.

Giving three months’ notice is a lot, I get that. Maybe it’s overkill. I’ve left jobs with 2-weeks’ notice before and they got by just fine as far as I know. This time it’s different though. I’m not just rushing away to the promise of a new job and a higher salary. Just the opposite in fact, and now I have the luxury and the desire to show some class of my own. Besides, I love the company and the people I work with and want to leave things better than when I got here seven long years ago.

I get all twisted up when I think about the end of my career. Right now, I spend my days managing people but in a few short weeks I’ll be managing what? I’ll organize trips, write stories, build stuff, take care of the house and yard. No more managing though, not people at least. I’ll just be another guy like all the rest of the retired guys.

They say loss of identity is a major concern that holds people back. I’d rather see it as an exciting opportunity. When I meet people, I’ll enjoy them (or not) for who they are as a person, rather than their title. I’ll also have the terrifying adventure of learning what others think of me without the crutch of a title. Good riddance. It will be good to be on even footing with everyone.

Day 80 Wednesday

This is the first week after putting in my soft notice. We’re keeping it quiet for a couple of weeks, but it’s certainly not quiet in my head, it’s yowling like a fire engine.

A retirement decision is so final. It’s not like choosing the meatloaf and then wishing you’d picked the chicken. This is a huge life change, almost irreversible, and my inner voice is screaming at me like an angry mother:

“It’s too soon! Are you sure you have enough money? Don’t be stupid. What are you going to do? How will you find meaning? You’re going to goof it up!”

But I’m not going to goof it up.

Day 75 Sunday

I woke up early and spent the morning combing through my finances. I’m in the software development business and I built a retirement calculator that would make Einstein proud. I can run what-if scenarios until my fingers bleed and most of the time I die with plenty of money. But not always, and there’s the rub. There’s a small risk that I’ll run out of money and that worries me. The logical side of my brain, which has mostly been on hiatus lately, reminds me that I can’t control everything.

So, I went for a long hike in the nearby hills to shake it off. I live in the Pacific Northwest where mountains and trees are our Zen. From my happy place, I watch the tall Douglas firs and cedars sway in the breeze. They’ll be here for decades, maybe centuries after I’m gone.

“After I’m gone.” A depressing thought, and impossible to define – which is all the more reason to retire. Every day I work is a day of freedom snatched from The Future.

Back home I fire up the barbeque and pour a glass of wine. Life is good. But alas, I do have to work tomorrow. What crazy smorgasbord of adventures will Monday bring?

Day 69 Saturday

Today marks the end of the third week. Ten more to go. I’ve woken to a screeching box for over forty years. What’ll I do without him?

As you know, I write articles about retirement. Lots of them, exploring all aspects of preparation and planning. I’ve interviewed plenty who are retired and some who un-retired, and I understand their differences. So, you’d think I’d be ready for this, an expert, calm and confident. Well, maybe I am more ready than others, but there’s still something mysterious about retirement that eludes me.

We can read and write about it all day long, but it’s not the same as being retired. It’s like reading about skydiving. You can learn everything about the flight, the equipment, the fear, the involuntary galvanic skin response. But when you jump, all hell breaks loose and your meticulous preparation goes flying out of your ass. Your lungs scream with fear and excitement while your eyes bug out like bullets.

That’s where I’m at right now. I’m plummeting at the speed of holy-shit and I have yet to pull the ripcord. With luck, my chute will open and in a few weeks, I’ll land safely and find my way home.

Then, my screeching box will mock me no longer. I’ll be free.

Here’s the next chapter: