Odd.

Odd but good.

At the end of last year's post, I said:

I only have one goal. Stop.

A few weeks ago, Liz and I both quit our jobs. By the end of 2024, our careers will be on hiatus.

I want to have a big mental clean-out. Sort out what I enjoy doing and what I just do out of habit. Work out who I am when I'm not working.

And, yeah, I'm getting there! Quitting work (don't call it FIRE) wasn't as traumatic as I thought. It is a little weird shifting into indolence. And it is sometimes terrifying not to have a regular pay-cheque come in. But it has mostly been inconsequential.

Much like the Buddhist saying "Before Enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After Enlightenment: chop wood, carry water" - life continues. The dishwasher needs loading, meals must be cooked, bills have to be paid. The rhythm of life beats on.

Have I got my delicious meaty brain into shape? I'm a bit less stressed about things. I was never one for bringing my work home with me - but I'm certainly less tense now I have fewer responsibilities. I've been able to exercise more and am (mostly) at my goal weight having (mostly) hit my daily step count.

I wrote something that got published in a magazine, and a bunch of my blog posts got lots of readers. I like it when the number goes up.

I'm volunteering on projects I believe in - but not too much. I was wary of replacing all my work commitments with voluntary ones. I intend to be a bit more involved in 2026.

It has been easier seeing friends and going on adventures knowing that we can stay up late without consequence.

On that point, we have been seeing a lot of friends. Which is nice. Not all of them - we still need to make plans to reconnect with people.

Travel

Our vague aim was to visit 12 countries in 12 months.

• Marrakesh in Morocco was lovely. Lots of lazing by a pool, wandering the Medina, gawping at museums. Perfect for a refreshing break.
• We did a 30 day Interrail tour across 10 countries. A little stressful at times, but a good way to exercise our travel muscles.
• I nipped back to Zagreb to speak at EuroBSDCon (work! Tsk!).
• Does a long-weekend in Wales count? Either way, it was lush!

And we're now preparing for a massive trip to Japan, Australia, New Zealand, and Thailand. So we'll hit the 12 well before the end of the year!

What hasn't worked

The UK's housing market continues to be batshit insane. Part of our plan rested on selling our old house. This has not been straightforward. What should have been a simple, chain-free transaction has been ridiculously complicated and stressful. That put a crimp on many of our plans for the year, and dented our overall happiness.

I'm still doing bits-and-pieces of work. Mostly small bits for friendly organisations. I get to pick-and-choose, and turn down anything that looks like "expensive money". Liz says I'm doing retirement wrong - I say I'm just keeping my hand in. But she's probably right!

I was invited to speak at a prestigious conference. But, through a confluence of logistics and cost, I couldn't go. No one's fault, although rather annoying.

Sometimes I volunteer for things and then think "WHY!?!?!"

Video Games still elude me. I didn't get on with Obra Dinn and I'm worried that Blue Prince won't live up to the hype. I quite like watching Liz play Farm Factorio Stardew Valley.

Next Year

So, what are my goals for next year?

• Bits and pieces of work.
  • I don't want an N-days a week job, but I do like doing a few days or weeks here and there.
• Attend - but don't speak - at conferences.
  • I think people are a bit tired of seeing me on stage. At least, I'm a bit tired of being on it! So heading off to OggCamp, EMFCamp, and others in a strictly tourist capacity.
• More health - more exercise.
  • My silly smartwatch is good at reminding me to keep moving. So I guess I'd better keep moving!
• Travelling.
  • Possibly not another 12 countries - but some more trips to places that we've never been before. Maybe even another Interrail trip to bits of Europe unknown to us.
• Keep blogging.
  • I've settled down to a cadence of a new post every other day. That seems sustainable without being onerous. I still want to learn one new thing per day (on average).
• See more friends in person.
  • Hang out more with people. We did a bunch of this in Europe and it was lots of fun. If you'd like to catch up over a drink, drop me a line 😃

The world appears to be going mad. This is my way of coping. Perhaps delulu really is the solulu?

Diving in to history

Thanks for reading, if you have been. Future historians may be interested in previous years' reviews for 2024, 2023, 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014⁰ 2013, 2012, 2011, and 2010.

British parents have this weird habit of giving their children long formal names which are routinely shortened to a diminutive version. Alfred becomes Alf, Barbara becomes Babs, Christopher becomes Chris - all the way down to the Ts where Terence becomes Terry.

And so, for most of my childhood, I was Terry⁰ to all who knew me.

There was a brief dalliance in my teenage years where I went by Tezza. A name I have no regrets about using but, sadly, appear to have grown out of.

So I was Terry until I entered the workforce. An overzealous IT admin ignored my "preferred name" on a new-joiners' form and, in a fit of bureaucratic inflexibility, renamed me "Terence". To my surprise, I liked it. It was my nom de guerre.

"Terence" had KPIs and EOY targets. "Terry" got to play games and drink beer.

While "Terence" sat in meetings, nodded sagely, and tried to make wise interjections - "Terry" pissed about, danced like an idiot, and said silly things on stage.

Over the years, as was inevitable, my two personalities merged. I said sillier things at work and tried a quarterly review of our OKRs with my wife¹.

I was Terry to friends and Terence to work colleagues. Like a fool, I crossed the streams and became friends with my colleagues. So some knew me as Terry and some as Terence. Confusion reigned.

Last year, I stopped working. I wondered what that would do to my identity. Who am I when I can't answer the question "What do you do for a living?"? But, so it seems, my identity is more fragile than I realised. When people ask my name, I don't really know how to respond.

WHO AM I?

Personal Brand is (sadly) a Whole Thing™. Although I'm not planning an imminent return to the workforce, I want to keep things consistent online². That's all staying as "Terence" or @edent.

So I've slowly been re-introducing myself as Terry in social spaces. Some people take to it, some find it disturbingly over-familiar, some people still call me Trevor.

Hi! I'm Terry. Who are you?

I started working full time before going to university. I worked part-time during my studies. Graduated into a crappy job. Got a place on a prestigious grad scheme. Worked my way up through the public and private sector. Start-ups and Ministries of State. Constantly working.

Not any more!

Yesterday was my last day in the office. Laptop and lanyard handed back. Out-Of-Office on permanently. Today is my first full day of being… what? Free? Unemployed? On extended sabbatical⁰? Retired?

I've tried to explain this to various people. But it is hard when I can't quite explain it to myself.

Internally, I'm calling it FIRE.

But I'm worried that I'll get bored and come crawling back to the world of work. If I tell people I'm retired, and then change my mind, I risk a humiliating climb down.

So I'm telling people it is a year off. An adult gap year. I have caring responsibilities¹. I want an escape hatch in case things don't go as planned.

"Ah," said a friend who is much wiser than I, "You're soft-launching your retirement!"

In the sitcom Frasier, there's a wonderful scene featuring ultra-feminist Ros losing her shit at a party guest. Ros, a high-flying career woman, is dating a guy who drives a garbage truck. She's deeply uncomfortable that his low social status will reflect badly on her.

How do I introduce myself in this brave new world? "Hi, I'm Terence. I don't work."

Do I just go with the generic "I'm an IT consultant"? It has the advantage of moving the conversation onto something less dull!

Will people resent me²? Will I get frustrated that friends can only meet at weekends? Will my mind turn to jelly³?

Throughout this, I've been referring to myself. But I is really We.

Liz quit her job at the same time. So we're a pair of bums off on an adventure together.

There's no non-wanky way to say "we want to find ourselves".

We're not travelling East to ingest mystic herbs in search of a great spiritual revelation.

But who are we without work? What are we like as people when we're not assaulted by the alarm clock, stressed from a commute, and dulled by endless Zoom meetings?

Unlike some couples, our relationship thrived during the confines of lockdown. It turns out, we really like each other! We'll go hand-in-hand, stepping into the future.

So this is it. Our last pay cheques are deposited at the end of December, and then it is the first day of the rest of our lives.

We're off to see Paul McCartney at the O2 tonight. That seems like a pretty good way to kick things off.

What will 2025 brings? Time to find out.

It's traditional to end these sorts of posts with a hearty "Onwards!" - but, instead, I think I'll finish with "Offwards".

Regular reader will know that I've titled all my big job moves as "regenerations" - I started the tradition when I left Vodafone, as I went to GDS, and then was lured to NHSX, before heading back to GDS, and then shuffling sideways to CDDO, after which I bounced to Our Future Health

So what's a good video for going on hiatus?

Ah, of course!

I have a mixed relationship with the FIRE movement. It basically boils down to "spend less, save more, then you can retire once you've save 25x your annual spend". That's it.

As Michael Taylor writes, some people fetishise the "spend less" part. If you deny yourself all pleasure, he argues, then life isn't worth living. That's probably broadly true.

But he makes a fundamental mistake in his calculations:

Let’s assume that you’re able to invest an extra £10,000 per year by living miserably now in hopes of a brighter future (bear in mind the average full-time salary in the UK is around £35,000 and that’s before tax).

The S&P 500 has historically averaged around 10pc per year, so if we assume a compound annual growth rate of 8pc across 20 years, you’d have £46,609.57.

Yes. £10,000 getting 8%, compounded over 20 years is "only" £46k. Not really enough to retire on. So don't bother saving! Spend! Spend! Spend! Feed the capitalist machine!

But, that's not the assumption being made. Read closer:

you’re able to invest an extra £10,000 per year

You add £10k, get 8%, you now have £10,800. Next year you add another £10k, meaning you get 8% on £20,800. A total of £22,464.

Repeat that for 20 years and what do you end up with?

£540,838.79

Yup! Over half a million quid. That rather changes things, doesn't it? If you started investing at age 30 and stopped at 50, you could retire early and live off the proceeds of £500k until your state pension kicked in¹.

But how much is £10k per year really? It is a lot for most people but can be structured in a more manageable way.

Let's assume you're part of a couple². People who live together spend less on housing, utilities, food, entertainment, etc.

If you're part of a couple, you only need to save £5k per year each. How much is that?

£96 per week. Or £14 per day.

Actually, it is even cheaper than that. If you open up a LISA³, you can deposit a maximum of £4k per year and the Government will give you a £1k bonus.

To invest £4,000 per year, you'd need to save... £11 per day.

I don't want to go all "Millennials just need less Starbucks and avocado toast!" but... yeah. If you're the sort of person who buys a meal-deal for lunch⁴ how much of that can you save per day by making your own sandwiches?

A pint less here, a cheaper bottle of wine there, going to the lower resolution Netflix, all the other boring budgeting tips you've heard of⁵.

£11 per day, each, for 20 years, gets you half a million quid.

That's what the FIRE movement is about. Getting people to realise that a small sacrifice now will pay off in the future.

Michael Taylor's article is correct. You probably shouldn't live on a diet of bread and water, never seeing friends, not going on a spontaneous trip to France; life is for living. Make the most of it!

But, also, life is for living, not working. If you take small actions now, you can free yourself from drudgery later.

Can't I just stop?

What would happen if I took a gap year? A sabbatical? A full year of not working?

I'm lucky enough to have enough savings for this venture. I've got me a wife who could also do with taking a break from her career.

So could we...?

The obvious downside is a year without earning any money.

The next issue is returning to work. "Can you explain this absence on your CV?" Oh, yeah, I just decided to quit for a bit. I'm not sure how attractive that is to future employers.

And the final issue is... to do what? Backpacking round India? Gardening? Eating our bodyweight in cheese?

I'm pretty sure this is what I want to do. Take a year or so out. Recharge. Reconfigure. So the next few months are going to be planning on what that looks like.

If you've ever taken a voluntary mid-career break, I'd love to hear what you did and how you planned it.

I've recently moved down to a 4-day-a-week job. Taking a 20% hit to my salary⁰ felt like a moment of madness. But it was part of a (somewhat) calculated plan.

I've previously mentioned FIRE - Financial Independence Retire Early. It's a culty sort of philosophy which asserts that if you cut your expenditure to the bare minimum and save a chunk of money, you'll be able to retire extremely early.

I'm not quite sure I'm ready to retire to a beans-on-toast lifestyle just yet. But, after reading "Portraits of Childfree Wealth", I was introduced to the idea of FILE. Financial Independence Live Early.

FIRE is a light-switch - you flick it and your status immediately changes from a worker to a retiree. FILE is a dimmer switch - you gradually turn down the intensity of your work to allow you more time to live.

And so, that is what I think I am doing. I need more space to discover what I want to do with my time outside work. And an insight into what I will be like when I have no need for employment.

Of course this is made somewhat easier by being a DINK - Dual Income No Kids. It turns out that the average cost of raising a child to the age of 18 is £200,000. That's a cost my wife and I don't have to account for - which takes us several steps closer to turning that FILE dimmer all the way off.

It's also possible thanks to me reading a truly terrible book called "The 3+1 Plan"¹. Again, it had a simple thesis - if you have 3 rental properties, they will pay for your 1 residential property. Each time we've moved house, we've rented our previous place out. It has more-or-less worked out for us. We try to be conscientious landlords - rent stays stable, maintenance is carried out promptly, pets are welcome - but it isn't a brilliant ethical position to be in.

The final piece of the puzzle is the knowledge that my time on this planet is finite². After reading "Die With Zero", I started to understand that money has utility now. I don't have any kids to leave it to. If there are charities which need funding, better to give them help now. So I might as well spend it while I'm alive.

This all comes down to a single figure. In the FIRE community it is referred to somewhat ominously as... The Number.

Let's say that I am likely to live another 50 years. Let's say that I want to live on an average salary of £33k per year. Let's say that inflation is static³.

The basic calculation is 50 * £33,000 = £1,650,000

If I had a shade over £1.6 million, I could retire today and live on a fairly average salary. On the last day of my life I would have spent my last quid and - one hopes - died with zero.

There are, of course, some problems with that.

The most obvious one is that no one knows exactly when they're going to die. So best to keep a little in the bank in case Centenarianism is thrust upon you.

As one grows older, the costs associated with personal care are likely to rise. There may be fewer all-night partying bills to pay, but that may not offset the cost of a nursing home.

On the positive side of the equation, having over a million quid in the bank and spending it over half a century is likely to attract some fairly hefty compound interest.

On the down side, the value of your portfolio can fall as well as rise.

Sites like https://cfiresim.com/ are good for this. They simulate would have happened to your portfolio if you started retirement every year since 1871.

In this example, it's taking a million dollars, investing it in a fairly balanced portfolio, and spending a $40k per year. You can take a look at that exact example. Across 100 years, 80 simulations were a success - they did not run out of money. But 20 were failures - the portfolio hit zero before death.

There are other methods of forecasting using similar data - here's FireCalc's estimates which reckons about a 75% success rate.

Of course, if it's looking like stocks are crashing, you can tighten your belt or go back to work.

There's also the "Rich, Broke, or Dead" calculator. It has a similar premise - but with the added joy of predicting your death!!!

Property

I never wanted to be a landlord⁴. But the stupid system the English have for buying and selling houses made it a necessity. We needed to move quickly to take new jobs and couldn't be stuck in a chain. So renting out became the easiest thing to do. And, of course, once tenants are in it becomes unethical to sell from under them. So, as and when our tenants give notice, we'll sell the property.

Despite all the hype about the profitability of BTL, our yields have remained under 4%. And house price growth has been about 3%. So, not nothing but hardly a path to infinite profitability.

So what's the plan?

Well, predicting the future is a mug's game. But here's my attempt.

Retire no later than 50. The ideal being around 47. That then gives me about 10 years until I can start drawing my private pensions, and about 20 until the state pension.

This means the next new years will be about reducing work, increasing pleasure, and getting ever closer to The Number.

If you've gone down the FILE / FIRE journey, I'd love to know what you've experienced and whether you have any tips.

This book is a (slightly shallow) exploration of 26 people on similar journeys. They're all American (or now living in the USA) so it has a slight bias to talking about things like 401(k) and medical bills which are absent in most other parts of the world. The author is a CFP® and, at times, reads a little like an advert for their services. Which is fair enough for a free book.

But it is compelling - if a little repetitive - to read about people going through similar journeys to us. Opting out of the social default can be a little alienating, so it is heartening to hear their struggles and successes. Lots of talk about using spreadsheets to model the future, enjoying the freedom to pick up and leave at a moment's notice, refusing to compromise on their plans.

While I'm a gleeful propagandist for the childfree movement & FIRE in general, it's a little one-sided. There's no one who regrets their choice, so it suffers from survivorship bias. But there are a range of ages, races, and orientations. It's not all straight, white, young couples. Even if you're not American, there's some good advice in there - and some deep questions to ask yourself.

Overall, it's a great book for provoking a discussion with your partner. I'd love to read a follow-up with all the people interviewed in, say, a dozen years.

A successful entrepreneur living in Southern California, Scott Rieckens had built a “dream life”. But underneath the surface, Scott was creatively stifled, depressed, and overworked trying to help pay for his family’s beach-town lifestyle. Follow Scott and his family as they devote everything to FIRE. Playing with FIRE is one family’s journey to acquire the one thing that money can’t buy: a simpler — and happier — life.

The FIRE movement is a cult. That's the only possible takeaway from this book. It's a movement which is fairly benign - and I'm happily a devotee - but this book paints it in the worst possible light.

Financial Independence Retire Early is a simple concept, and the book could easily be written on a napkin:

1. Save more - much more - than you spend.
2. A frugal lifestyle is sustainable even on a retiree's budget.
3. Here's the maths to back it up.

Instead, to flesh out the book, we get a bunch of homespun anecdotes. Each more cult-like than the last.

One day, Scott listened to a podcast interview that changed everything. Five months later, he had quit his job and convinced his family to leave their home...

Revelations which cause our protagonist to stop his car and have a Damascene conversion. Worshipping at the altar of the new prophets. Guilt tripping his wife into giving up her lifestyle. Dropping out so that he can devote his life to the cause. Travelling across the world to spend time with his gurus. Converting his friends to the movement - and fretting for them when they don't. It goes on and on.

It is his wife I feel most sorry for. The book presents her as a distant cipher, a reluctant convert, an unrepentant bitch, a confidante, or a selfless devotee - seemingly whatever the plot needs. I half-wonder if she really exists.

Look - I love the FIRE mindset. But this book is about an unhealthy obsession. It's like those dudes who won't shut up about Cryptocurrencies. Or Crossfit.

Spend less money - it probably isn't making you that happy. Save more in low cost trackers - you'll probably ride out any economic bumps. Passive income can supplement your lifestyle - but beware of how much work it can be. If you can save ~25x your yearly outgoings, you can probably live indefinitely on that lifestyle.

Quite why this needs to be a book - and a documentary! - I have no idea. It's a blogpost at best. But lots of people have made careers out of selling simple advice repackaged as profound books - so I guess it works.

You should probably follow the FIRE principles - but don't base your life around it.