This bird is lucky. He is not a legal eagle. He is a Bald Eagle. A non-legal eagle. One day, I aspire to emulate this bird; to also not be a legal eagle.
I’ve become a bit obsessed about this aspiration. My latest early-retirement hero has fueled that obsession. I crunch numbers on this calculator like a woman possessed. Posts like this one on the 4 Percent Rule have me feeling heartened. Instead of thinking I have to continue in my mind-numbing, soul-sucking profession for Ten More Years, it’s possible I could be done as early as the close of 2016. (And giving up booze has given my savings rate a bit of a boost.)
Although the end date is still somewhat malleable, I’ve begun a countdown of sorts: inspired by this post, I’ve stuck neat little rows of Post-It flags inside a cabinet above my office desk. One flag for each remaining week. Granted, I’ve got a few more rows than he does, but knowing the end is indeed in sight makes continuing to report to work each week slightly more tolerable. I’ve had the pleasure of removing two flags, already.
Operation Non-Legal Eagle is in place. There’s nothing more to do for now, other than to relax and allow the passage of time to do its work on my growing nest egg. And to dream of how my life will look once I’m free to spread my wings and fly. (A bit overboard with the puns, I know.)