FIRE - Financial Independence, Retire Early - doesn't necessarily mean stopping work.
Instead, for those of us who still love what we do professionally it can mean having choice in what assignments we do and for what clients.
This morning I rolled my eyes.
A former client who had treated without respect in the past tried to foist on me an urgent assignment.
Of course, I didn't have to accept it.
See, I didn't need the money.
Not that I'm wealthy. It's that I have "enough." At least, for now. If that amount ceases to be adequate, then I will have to lower the criteria for assignments I find acceptable. No big deal.
Even with FIRE, there is no settling in. We play it by ear.
Since October, the numbers in my portfolio were erratic. Mostly on a downward trajectory. I held off even on swinging by discount retailers like Goodwill. Obviously, my financial wiggle room was smaller.
Starting at the end of last week, the numbers surged upward. Also, I was tested as an "intuitive," passed, and have been hired to provide psychic guidance to those over-50 in their struggle with ageism. The compensation is less than my communications work but it's a side hustle which does plenty of good.
So, the financial wiggle room has widened.
Today I bought a winter coat and five sweaters at Goodwill for $26.00. A few years ago, that bill at Talbots likely would have been more than $2,000.
Goodwill, at least in my experience, charges less than consignment shops, yet carries brandnames, including the Talbots one.
Goodwill has more selection that the Salvation Army thrift shops.
And it offers both a rewards program and senior citizen discounts.
Six months ago I shifted from JCPenney hair salon to GreatClips in Austintown, Ohio. The trick in that is having a referral to a good stylist at those discount hair services. Through the grapevine I found my way to Hannah. The monthly styling bill is half.
I downsized from an iPhone to one with only the features I need. The initial price of the phone itself and the monthly fee are significantly less. I cut an additional five bucks from the bill by prepaying monthly with a credit card.
For the future I have even bigger plans for radical saving.
At the end of August I will relocate to a small U.S. town on the border on Mexico. The internet service is fine. Therefore, no limits on my telecommuting communications assignments.
Crossing that border will reduce the money I traditionally invest in dental procedures. Yes, I have one of those million-dollar mouths, including myriad crowns.
Even with the best kinds of dental insurance, dental tourism to Mexico results in saving about a half what I pony up in the U.S.
The apartment I called about in that town reduces monthly rent a third. Its location gives me access to amazing day trips to California and New Mexico, as well as, of course, Mexico.
By bunking in motels and pensions I also can penetrate Latin and South America and cross the ocean to Spain where I had lived and worked in in my youth.
Can I become a travel writer?
That's an emerging dream.
And, dreams become possible again with FIRE.
My last dream was in the late 1970s.
I was stuck in the tiny town of Greensburg, Pennsylvania. Then state senator James R. Kelley had fired me as a research assistant, just as he had fired the previous research assistant. He also had fired the secretary.
It was a bottom.
At a bottom, you can look down or you can look up.
Up I saw I had nothing to lose by trying to become a professional writer. Within four years I was a ghostwriter/speechwriter for executives at Chevron.
Decades later, when I was blogging the Rhode Island lead paint public nuisance class action trial, I had the opportunity to post on that worst of times with Kelley. Here it is. Smirk smirk. I hadn't even dared dreamed of achieving my version of "justice."
A disbarred lawyer I assisted with his promotional materials for a guitar coaching business also has grabbed back hold of a dream. It was one he had had in high school.
He had envisioned himself as a high school music teacher.
By sophomore year in college, "they" convinced him that a smart guy like him had to become a lawyer. No surprise, he self-destructed.
A displaced housewife I intuitively coached moved out of Greenwich, Connecticut. She is leveraging her divorce settlement to fund her dream to, as she puts it, "make trouble." I predict she will run for elected office in Jersey City, New Jersey. Since that's my home town I will campaign for her pro bono.
Meanwhile, colleagues ask me what I will do with all the money I will earn if I land a possible lucrative book ghostwriting assignment. It may or may not come through.
Answer: Squeeze every penny.
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