I would wager you are in a more lucrative financial position to FIRE than most of these folks.
Sure, every day I make a few hundred extra dollars, but at what cost? In return I give up one more day of my life, one more day that I didn't spend working on my little boat, or writing, or at home with my kids, or climbing, or hanging out with my dad at the dog park. One day closer to death, one day I can never have back.
At some point, the extra few hundred dollars provides very little extra utility compared to the opportunity cost of all the things I didn't do instead. For now, I'm not sure I would voluntarily trade away that amount of money for the chance to spend this one day doing things that I consider more important than whatever bullshit meeting I sat through this morning instead, but that day is rapidly approaching.
In the meantime, I've decided I'm taking advantage of every inch of flexibility my employer offers in terms of reclaiming some semblance of work life balance in the cubicle time I have left. I'm scaling back my work group contributions to better align with my proscribed duties, since it's become clear there is no extra credit here. There is no promotion in my possible future, no rewards for a job well done, no gold watch for dutifully towing the company line, and certainly no attaboy bonus for exceeding expectations. This has been a real challenge for me, since I've spent my life practicing ambitious overachievement in every facet of my life. Professionally speaking, I have reached the end of this particular ladder. There is no point in trying to climb any higher.
This makes me a bad employee.
Friday I will hit ten years in the workforce. Friday was my original target retirement date, before DAF donations complicated my plan. The stock market stubbornly refuses to crash away all of this surplus value above and beyond my target number, even after the donations. Every day it gets harder and harder to decide going to work is a better use of my time than not going to work. Every day my inevitable death inches one day closer, and the scale tips a little bit more.
Freedom awaits me, and all I have to do is reach out and grab it. Today I balanced that decision scale and decided to go have a 3pm beer, then go back to my cube and tough it out. Friday I hit the ten year mark, so Monday I plan to have some awkward conversations with my management group.