The truth is that this game sucks more and more with every year that passes. Life is too short, simplifying that life is a good start to getting the hell out.
Life ain't a dress rehearsal. This is the real deal. I'm out having done the maths and decided it was possible. I want to die poor, not rich. There were alternatives in work that paid the bills and savings did the rest. Now a couple of pensions have kicked in. The maths were correct and life style/quality of life exploded: that included family time and an ever shortening bucket list. I tried to imagine, especially on a Sunday lunchtime with my mates over a roast, what it would be like to be getting up at 04.00 on Monday for a block of earlies. I started to shake in horror and had another glass of red to calm me down and stop the jitters. Then the memory receded and all was well with the world again. Even my wife smiled at me remembering the gummy old bear that went to bed early and left home for 5 days the morning after. She dreaded the first day of home coming as the 'get it off my chest' saga took longer each time.
It's over and god save whose ever king or queen you support; even a president.