The Great Unsubscribe
Alright, I’m back from my nap, and the coffee is brewing. I hope you’ve been breathing a little easier since our last chat. We agreed that facing this "sequel" is daunting, but you’ve got the grit and the playlists to handle it.
But I know, I know. There’s still that giant, disco-ball-sized elephant in the room. We touched on it last time, but it’s the question that wakes you up at 3 a.m. in a cold sweat:
“Okay, Boomer, that’s all very inspiring, but how am I supposed to PAY for this groovy new chapter without a winning lottery ticket?”
It’s the ultimate buzzkill, isn’t it? The spreadsheet that haunts your dreams. Let's get the scary part over with first, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
The Money Thing (A Mercifully Brief Chat)
Listen, if you come here for hot stock tips, I’m afraid I can’t help you. My most successful financial venture was holding onto my old vinyl records. I’m an expert in dad jokes and finding the best diners, not derivatives.
So, here is my one and only piece of financial advice: if you feel lost, go talk to a pro. A real one. Someone who gets paid to untangle this stuff for a living. Think of them less as a scary suit and more as a financial translator who can turn a retirement fund statement from ancient hieroglyphics into a simple, actionable map. Getting a plan, any plan, is the best anti-anxiety medicine on the market. Do it. You’ll thank me later.
Okay. Deep breath. We’ve acknowledged the money monster. If you were rolling in wealth or fresh off a lottery win, you probably wouldn’t be reading this. But here we are, together. Average. Middle-class. Ordinary. And that’s okay—because this is where most people live. Around 80 percent, in fact. So let’s stand together. We’re not alone in this.
Now, let's talk about the magic trick nobody mentions. The part where, once you stop working, a huge chunk of your expenses vanishes into thin air. I call it “The Great Unsubscribe”.
Right now, a massive portion of your budget isn't for “living”—it's for “working”. You're paying a hefty, invisible tax just to participate in the daily grind.
Think about it. Let’s audit the "Cost of Having a Job":
The Commute Toll: The petrol, the transit pass, the wear and tear on your car, the podcast subscription you need to stay sane in traffic and so on.
The Look Professional Fee: The work wardrobe you’d never be caught dead in on a Saturday. The dry-cleaning bills. The uncomfortable shoes that are secretly plotting against your feet.
The Convenience Tax: That $7 coffee because you were too rushed to make your own. The sad, overpriced desk-lunch salad. The Uber Eats order because you got home so late that the thought of chopping a single vegetable felt like climbing Everest.
The Stress-Relief Surcharge: The impulse Amazon purchase after a brutal meeting. The extra glass of wine to decompress from a passive-aggressive email chain. The weekend getaways you *need* just to recharge your battery enough to face Monday.
Now, imagine taking a giant pair of scissors and snipping the threads to all of that. When you unsubscribe from the 9-to-5, you’re not just getting your time back; you’re getting your money back, too.
Suddenly, your commute is a leisurely stroll from the bedroom to the kitchen. Your uniform is whatever feels good. Lunch is something you happily throw together yourself because you actually have the time and energy. Your biggest stressor might be deciding whether to read a book or finally tackle that sourdough starter.
This next chapter isn't necessarily about having a bigger pile of money. It’s about needing dramatically “less” of it to build a richer, more intentional life. You’re not just shedding a job title; you’re shedding the enormous financial and mental overhead that came with it.
When my wife and I retired a few years ago, our income dropped to 20% of what we used to earn, yet so far we can live quite comfortably without touching our “oh shit” reserve savings.
So yes, make a plan for your savings. But also, make a list of all the things you won't have to pay for anymore. You’ll realise that the "mountain of cash" the experts talk about might be more of a pleasant, manageable hill.
A hill with a fantastic view, a comfortable bench, and plenty of time to enjoy it. In the future, I will also give you some advice on how to reduce your current overheads and have fun while doing it.
Stay groovy, and we’ll chat soon about what to do with all this newfound freedom. (Hint: it involves more than just naps...). Most of my retired friends say that they have never been so busy. And they do not even count grand parenting.
