This is the operational companion to the philosophy posts. If you have already decided to walk away from work and the math is approximately correct, what remains is sequencing. Thirteen weeks. Two or three concrete tasks per week. The list below assumes you are in the United States, in a salaried W-2 job, with a partner you intend to involve, and a portfolio in the $300k–$1.5M range. Adjust the specifics; the structure is portable. Print this. Stick it on the fridge. Cross things off.
Week 1: spending audit
Pull the last twelve months of bank and credit-card statements. Categorize every line. Do this in a single spreadsheet, not in an app. Apps lie by lumping. The output you want is one number — your actual annual all-in spending — and a list of the five largest categories. Most readers discover their real number is 10–20% lower than they thought, because they have been mentally counting the worst months as typical. Some discover it is higher. Either way, the number you walk away with at the end of week 1 is the only number that matters for everything that follows.
Week 2: net worth and runway
Write down every account balance: brokerage, retirement, savings, HSA, I-bonds, the home equity you are not touching, any vested RSUs, any pending bonus. Subtract every debt. The number is your net worth as of today. Divide investable assets (exclude home, exclude restricted assets) by week 1’s spending number. That ratio is your runway in years at zero growth. If the runway is under 12 years, you are doing Coast or Barista, not full walk-away. If it is over 25 years, you are over-saved and have been for a while.
Week 3: model the post-job math
Run your numbers through one honest framework. Use the formula from this site: annual spending divided by the rate matching your honest horizon. Twenty-year horizon, roughly 5%. Thirty-year, roughly 4%. Layer in expected Social Security from SSA.gov’s estimator at age 67 and at 62. Build a bridge schedule: portfolio funds the gap, Social Security replaces a portion of spending starting at claim date. Most readers find the bridge math reduces their required portfolio by 25–40% from the headline 25× number.
Week 4: stress-test it
Take the model from week 3 and break it. Drop the portfolio 30% on day one. Run it again. Add an unexpected $50k medical event in year three. Run it again. Assume Social Security pays out at 75% of the current schedule (the 2034 trustee projection if nothing changes). Run it again. The plan that survives all three stresses with manageable belt-tightening — not the plan that requires perfect markets — is the plan you are working from. If yours fails one of the three, week 4 is the week you find out, not week 53.
Week 5: healthcare research
Pull up your state’s ACA exchange. Run a quote at your projected post-job MAGI. If your MAGI will be under roughly $60k single or $120k family of four, your premiums will be substantially subsidized. If you are in an ACA-expansion state and your MAGI will be under roughly $20k, you may be Medicaid-eligible. Note that expansion Medicaid has no asset test in most states; the standard FIRE-forum fear is, in most cases, misinformation. Price COBRA from your employer as a fallback. Get the actual numbers, not the rumors.
Week 6: healthcare decision
Pick a plan. Write down the monthly premium, the deductible, the out-of-pocket maximum, the network. Decide which prescription, specialist, and primary-care continuity matters most. If you are considering geographic arbitrage, this is also the week to research the visa and healthcare situation in your target country. Portugal D7, Mexico’s residente temporal, Thailand’s Long Term Resident — each has documented requirements and a real timeline. By end of week 6 you have a healthcare plan for day 91, not a vague intention.
Week 7: the partner conversation
If you have a partner, this is the week. Not before — you need the numbers from weeks 1–6 in hand. Not after — you need their input to commit. Schedule a real conversation, not a passing comment. Bring the spreadsheet. Walk through the spending number, the runway, the bridge math, the healthcare plan, the stress tests. The conversation has three possible outcomes: aligned, divided, or further conversation needed. Each is acceptable as a week-7 output. None of them is we will figure this out later.
Week 8: tell two people who are not your partner
Pick the two people whose judgment you trust most and who are not in your company. Tell them what you are planning. The point is not approval. The point is to have said it out loud, to people who will follow up, before the larger announcement. Saying it out loud reduces the percentage of plans that quietly evaporate by about half. The two people do not have to agree with you. They have to know.
Week 9: write the resignation letter
Draft it short. Six to eight lines. Date of last day, statement of resignation, brief offer to transition responsibilities, signature. Do not explain. Do not thank effusively. Do not justify. The letter is a procedural document for HR’s files. Your closure is happening in your own head, not in a paragraph addressed to your manager. Save the letter. Do not send yet. Knowing it exists changes how the next weeks feel.
Week 10: the transition memo
This is the document that goes to your replacement, not to your boss. Write down every project, every key contact, every system password, every recurring task, every piece of context that lives only in your head. Aim for ten to fifteen pages. The memo is partly professional courtesy and partly insurance — the cleaner your handoff, the lower the probability your former employer calls in month two asking you to consult on something you did not document. Do this while you are still inside, with access to the systems.
Week 11: deliver the letter
Schedule a meeting with your manager. Deliver the letter in person. The conversation will be shorter than you expect. Most managers have seen this before. State the date. Decline to negotiate. Counter-offers are common; the data on counter-offer acceptance is bad — most accepters leave anyway within twelve months, having damaged the relationship. Decline politely. Confirm the last day in writing the same day.
Week 12: benefits and rollover paperwork
Initiate the 401(k) rollover paperwork — do not cash out, roll to an IRA at a brokerage you control. File any pending FSA reimbursements before the deadline (the FSA forfeiture rule means unspent dollars are gone on your last day). Request the COBRA election paperwork even if you intend to use ACA — having the option available for 60 days is worth the request. Confirm your final paycheck date, any vacation payout, any vesting acceleration. Get every benefit transaction in motion this week, not in week 13.
Week 13: last day, first quiet week
Deliver the memo. Hand back the laptop and the badge. Do not take a farewell drink at the company bar; the closure happens internally, not at the bar. For the first seven days off, do nothing. Not almost nothing — actually nothing. No projects, no consulting calls, no errands you have been postponing, no productivity sprint into your post-job identity. The decompression is structural, not optional. The people who skip the decompression week are the same people who, in month four, discover that they have rebuilt the job inside themselves out of a different set of materials. Sleep. Walk. Cook one meal slowly. The new architecture starts the following week.
After the thirteenth week
The thirteen weeks above get you from the decision to the door. What happens on the other side is a different essay. For now, the only task is week 1. Most people sit with the desire for two or three years and then sit with it for another two or three. The desire is not the plan. The plan is the spreadsheet from week 1, the healthcare decision from week 6, the conversation from week 7, the letter from week 11. Pick a Monday. Start the spreadsheet. The thirteenth week arrives on its own once the first one does.
Print this. Stick it on the fridge. Cross things off.
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